


Trail of Memories

by snowstormjonerys



Series: Trail of Memories [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Western, Civil War, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Marriage of Convenience, Romance, brief themes in slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowstormjonerys/pseuds/snowstormjonerys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth Greene left Atlanta, a ring of fire behind her and the future uncertain as she and her family traveled West. Daryl Dixon was a man on a mission to keep his brother out of jail or worse. He hadn't counted on being one of those cowboys that had to save the girl but it happened. Again and again. What he didn't know was she'd be saving him too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No sense in looking back

_No memory is ever alone, it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have their own associations. – Louis L'amour_

 

 

_Just after the burning of Atlanta 1864_

**Greene Family Plantation**

 

"Get your things Bethie, just like we practiced." Maggie's voice was panicked and Beth was scared.

Beth Greene had never been away from her family home, not for longer than a fortnight but with Atlanta burning in the distance, it was inevitable that the fires and Sherman's men would reach them, sooner rather than later. Their Daddy said they weren't about to let that happen. Beth raced to her room, amid her father shouting orders from the front lawn where their horse and buggy was already drawn and ready. They had been preparing all afternoon and now it was time. They were leaving. She didn't know what would happen with Jimmy. He was across town, his family probably preparing to do the same.

Shawn had been sent west when he was forced to join ranks for the cause and he had heard tell of people finding their fortune in Gold. The Greene's didn't need fortune. They needed sanctuary. Despite the fact that the west was considered untamed and uncivilized no one could argue that the south had become even worse. Their world suddenly unpredictable and unsettling, Hershel, Annette, Maggie and Beth put their bags alongside their respective trunks and settled in for the long journey. Bob, their footman and Sasha their long time nanny were going with them.

Daddy had given them the option of leaving, but they were a childless couple, only having the other and Bob had made their stance early that day. "If it's all the same to you Mr. Greene, we'd like to go with you. If you're so obliged. Ain't nothin' to hold us here now. "Sides you're family to us." He had looked away to the smoke that was growing closer and the flames that seemed to burn brighter by the minute.

Her father had nodded his head and it was so. That's how things were done in her family, how they had always been done. Her Daddy nor his ancestors had never owned slaves like some of their neighbors did. The oldest Greene was of the mind that people weren't to be owned and he was as hard a worker as any of the men and women who came to work for them. He'd be out there picking the cotton and managing the harvest with the rest of them. Greenes weren't afraid of hard work and never had been. The men and women who worked for her father were there because they were paid a wage to be there. They did an honest hard day's work and earned a wage they could be proud of. Bob and Sasha had tried for a few years Beth knew to have a child but so far nothing had happened. Beth couldn't help but wonder if that could be a blessing. Children seldom fared well on the trek to the west.

"You have your jacket with the kitty sewn in right, Bethie?" Her mother pointed to the coat Beth held in her lap. Her mother had sewn a large sum of money into the hem of her coat in a special pouch. Just in case. She had done it for each of them in case they somehow got separated.

Tales of the journey to the great west were fraught with stories of Indian raids and dust storms and people being robbed by bandits. Bob was a good shot with a rifle and Sasha had shown real promise lately. Her Daddy was no slouch with firearms either and he'd made sure his wife and daughters were well trained too. Beth didn't currently have a gun on her person but she was sure that was a situation that would be remedied in the very near future, she dared say before they were even out of Georgia. She sat in the back of the wagon and felt the pull of the horses as they made the turn to the west. She settled back and looked out the back, wondering if she would ever see her homeland again. She couldn't help the tears that fell from her eyes. She forced them back after a few minutes. No sense in feeling sorry for herself. Greenes were made for the rough and tumble world. Her ancestors had come over from the Old Country with nothing more than the shirts on their backs and built up a nice empire harvesting cotton. Her father had owned the general store in Senoia, but that was gone now too.

Beth straightened up where she sat watching the flames and smoke and her childhood home fade in the distance. She retied her bonnet on her head, and she was glad of the shade of the brim, hiding the evidence of her sadness from her travel companions. It was going to be a long journey and there was no sense in looking back. She needed to look forward to the future. She believed that they would go west and find land and stake their claim. They could build a life again. She would believe for all of them.

* * *

It was three weeks into their journey when things started going wrong. Her mama had gotten sick and then Maggie. Daddy had pushed on with Bob helping out with the rig and Sasha helping Beth tend to Mama and Maggie. It was fall and the worst time to be making the trek to the west. Snow would be coming in a month out there and they needed to get as far as they could as fast as they could.

The next night the rains started. They were forced to stop somewhere east of the Mississippi. The roads had gotten pretty rough and Beth had spent the first two nights throwing up from all the movement. That had long since past but they were all cold, tired and hungry. They were going to have to stop for the night and seek higher ground. They had already gotten stuck in the mud twice. Fortunately, Bob and Daddy had been able to maneuver the wheel of the wagon out, but they might not be so lucky a third time.

She felt the wagon come to a stop and the rain had stopped for the moment. Daddy had parked them on at the top of a slope. It wasn't nearly high up enough to soothe her fears but it would have to do. She swabbed at her mother's forehead with the tepid cloth she had managed the wet down with the water from Daddy's canteen. He had washed out all his shine claiming he was making a new start. His hands had shook something awful the first week of the trip but he had managed and she was so proud of him for sticking to his word that he'd not touch another drop. She knew his promise would probably last until they set foot in California but she was sure that was a long way off and maybe he'd be completely cured of the demons that had plagued him his whole life.

Beth set about getting another rag for Maggie's head when she heard her father shout that he needed help. She poked her head out of the wagon and noticed that her father seemed to be headed away from the river. Their dog Piper was paddling her way back in the river. "Stupid dog seems intent on drownin' herself." Her father muttered as she reached his side, carrying one of the buckets of water he had gone to retrieve.

"We're gonna have to boil this awhile." She remarked. There was a lot of muck and debris floating around in the already brackish water.

Piper barked again. Someone was stuck out further in the swampy area she and her father had just come from. "Help." Their cries were frantic.

Beth looked at her father and tossed down the bucket not taking note that her skirts were getting all wet and it weighed her down. She was upon the river now and the icy waters were numbing on her already chilly skin. Her teeth chattered as she reached the person calling for help.

Suddenly there was a large rush of water and a tug at Beth's ankle as a swirling jet of water swept past her, the icy waters suddenly a churning sea of fallen debris and a deadly path of rocks, branches and logs. The child she had been about to save got lucky and grabbed onto a branch.

The water was pulling along faster and she was being swept downstream pulled under the water at last. She sputtered underwater and her eyes burned both from the acrid water and the tears.

She was terrified her lungs might never breathe air again when she finally resurfaced, her head breaking just above the water. She looked around and saw a whir of trees and rocks, the current pulling her under.

She was able to draw in a large breath as she was helpless to let the current carry her along to deposit her on whatever soil it saw fit. She began to suddenly be afraid that she might never stop churning and she had the thought that she would probably throw up after she finally stopped spinning.

There was a sudden jolt and she barely had time to make sense of the object she was hurtling towards before her forehead hit the jutted out rock ahead of her and everything went black.

* * *

Daryl Dixon was nearly done with his hunt, tying the fifth squirrel to the string with the others. They'd make nice jerky for the trek to the west. He had hunted all morning and found seven squirrels. The rest were back at his camp. He'd found an abandoned cabin way off the beaten path and he'd holed up there the past couple days after receiving word from his brother that he was in need of some assistance out West. Seemed he'd struck it rich. Daryl would believe when he saw it but word had come down that he was wanted by the law and Daryl could only imagine the trouble Merle Dixon had gotten himself into.

Daryl sighed making the trek past the rising river. He was mighty glad the cabin was way up the mountain, he couldn't imagine having to try to catch some shut-eye worrying about whether or not the river was going to carry him away in the night.

It was the shock of wheat colored hair that caught his attention as he passed by the biggest bank of the river. He took his knife from the sheath strapped to his side and approached the figure carefully. The closer he got the more he made out the features. White blonde hair all around her head like a halo, a goose egg on her forehead and blood still trickling down, though the water dripping from her head had lightened the tracks considerably to a watery pink. He replaced his knife in his sheath and knelt down, feeling the side of her neck. He held his breath and waited, feeling nothing at first and then finally a steady thrum of life pulsing beneath his fingers. She was alive.

He scooped her up in his arms. She was a lot heavier than she looked but he supposed it could be on account as she was wearing so damn many clothes. He hefted her up higher as he began the hike up the mountain trail that would lead to the cabin. He was glad he'd cut firewood earlier. This little miss was going to need a warm fire. He didn't know what instinct had kicked in just now. He'd never seen himself as the damsel saving type but damn if she didn't pull on his heart strings as he deposited her on his bed, the only bed in the room, a soft sigh escaping her lips at the change in environment even if she wasn't entirely conscious, her unconscious mind preferred the warmth of the inside of the cabin to the outdoors and he couldn't blame her.

He stood back and brought his hand up to the back of his neck, leaning over slightly, catching his breath. Finally he looked at her, laid out, looking like she weighed about a buck ten and she was soaking wet and wasn't that the problem?

He knew the first thing he needed to do was get her warm. The natural progression of that followed that she needed to be out of those soaking wet clothes. Seeing as there was no one here but him and his horse that sure narrowed down his options. Damn if this day didn't just go to shit in a hurry.


	2. Hell hath no fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't do summaries....

Daryl used the longest stick he could find to stoke the fire in the fireplace, the flames starting to grow higher. He was procrastinating and he knew it. He'd probably rather have hot coals placed on his eyelids rather than undress this girl he didn't know. It felt all kinds of wrong, but he knew it was important to get her warm if she wasn't going to catch her death.

He moved the bed over closer to the fire and finally having nothing else to do besides set to the task that he had been dreading the last few minutes. He felt mildly guilty for not getting her out of the wet clothes first. He knew firsthand from falling in the creek a time or two that the sooner you got out of the wet clothes the faster your body could begin to repair itself, get back to normal.

He sighed and gathered the old wool blankets he had found in the back of the pantry, slightly moth-ridden but they would do. He started at her feet, working her leather boots from her delicate feet and then peeling her stockings away. He warmed the cold wet gooseflesh between his palms, trying to bring some kind of circulation back to the almost purple-hued tissue. He began to naturally work faster trying to get the rest of her skin to pink up like her feet were starting to.

He methodically removed each piece of clothing, the amount of which was extensive even for the experience he had with women these days. She must be from a well off family, he thought, removing her coat and placing it closer to the fire. The fabric was well made and thick and it would likely take a while for it to dry out properly. If the clouds were any indication they were going to get an early dose of winter soon.

He turned back to the girl, working and watching for signs of her to wake up. He studied her facial features and she was so peaceful in her sleep. At first glance she looked like she was just taking an afternoon nap. Her face was completely relaxed and her perfect pink bow-shaped mouth was set in a thin line like she was just set off in dreamland somewhere.

Then his gaze settled on the knot on her forehead and the traces of the blood he had yet to wipe away and all those thoughts he'd had of her being peaceful were dashed. He wondered how she had gotten where she was. There were no houses within fifty miles of here. Someone must be missing her, he thought. A pretty little thing like her. Yes, she would be missed.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and tried not to think too hard on what Merle would say about this situation. "Got some pretty little miss gettin' your head in a buzz, baby brother. Bout damn time." He could almost hear him chuckling in the back of his head. But Merle wasn't here, hadn't been for some time. He'd left when their daddy had started wailing on their mother. He'd hated him for a long time until he realized that his mother was destined to kill herself, setting their small cabin on fire with his father inside. Daryl had been at school at the time. The sheriff had tried to come get him at the time but he'd dodged them, stayed out of their way until they had finally given up. Then Daryl had camped out in the shed, did odd jobs until he'd saved enough to move on.

Now here he was, taking care of this little miss, and he was the only Dixon left in this area. Which left him with the thought that a Dixon had no business looking twice at a girl like this one, all sweet and innocent looking. Before he knew it, he had her undressed down to her underthings. His face flushed red as he shook out one of the wool blankets and covered her with it, keeping his hands under the blanket and lightly massaging her supple thigh, trying to stimulate some warmth back into her limbs. He concentrated on the task at hand but still felt like the worst kind of pervert for what he was doing even if it was to try to save her life.

He still balked at removing her underwear knowing that the wet garments need to be completely removed to effect the quickest warmth. "Stop being such a pussy Darylina." He heard Merle's voice as if it was coming from behind his shoulder.

With a huff, being careful to keep the girl's modesty, he reached up under the blanket and grasped the sides of her pantaloons and pulled them over her hips and pulled them beneath the blanket and added them to the growing mound of clothes. As far as he could tell there was one more item after he removed her chemise and her carefully shifted her body to pull it over her head, realizing at the last minute that she was not wearing a corset. He finished removing the wet chemise, the light fabric suddenly heavier and making him feel like he had twelve thumbs for appendages. He hastily threw the blanket over her, covering her as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the image of her pert young breasts but the memory burned in the back of his mind anyway. He tucked the blanket around her tightly and then tossed another one over her for good measure and then set about stoking the fire higher getting a good high blaze going. Within thirty minutes, the room was an oven and he had to shed his coat and his outer jacket and his chambray shirt was now unbuttoned. It was hotter than hell fire but if it warmed up the pretty little miss then all the better. He shook his head. The sooner he got her coming around, the sooner he could send her back where she had come from and he could head towards Merle, hopefully before the big snows started coming. He figured he'd have to stop somewhere in between but he was a Dixon. Dixons didn't back down from a challenge and they sure as hell didn't turn their back on family.

He sat down by the fire, stoking it from time to time and waited. She had to wake up sometime.

* * *

The first thing Beth was aware of was warmth, which was strange since all she could remember dreaming about was cold. In her dreams she was freezing, beneath some icy surface. She thought perhaps she had fallen through the ice while ice skating. She had read a story once about ice skating. But that didn't make sense. It never got cold enough in Georgia to make the lakes ice over, at least it hadn't in her 18 years of existence.

Her second hint of awareness was a dull throb in her head. She squinted against a flicker and then realized that her eyes were open. She was in a dimly lit room but it was warm, homey and she smelled something that smelled suspiciously like her mama's stew. Maybe that was her brain playing tricks on her.

She opened her eyes fully and attempted to sit up and was met with a more urgent throb behind her eyes warning her that she'd just made a wrong move.

"Whoa." The voice was gravelly, hoarse and her eyes flew to the source. There before her stood a very tall, menacing man, in a blue work shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his white undershirt. She averted her eyes at the broad expanse of his chest.

She saw him hastily rebutton his shirt out of the corner of her eye. Her mind chose that moment to alert the rest of her that she was indeed very naked underneath the blankets she was huddled under. She cleared her throat. "How did I get here?" She should feel afraid but she didn't.

"I carried you. Found you by the river." His voice was softer this time and his blue eyes supported the warm feeling she got, almost as if she could remember him carrying her here .

"Where am I? My family?" She looked him over. He was ruggedly handsome. His face was tanned, his jaw sharply chiseled, scruffy facial hair dotting the surface. She thought he needed a shave and then decided against it. It suited him. His eyes were warm but they hinted that life had been less than kind to him. Beth wondered what could have been so terrible to mark him in such a way. It was a tough world they lived in. She could imagine well enough what life had done to him; what it was starting to do to her.

He shrugged. "'I dunno. I found you like that, soaking wet, 'bout to freeze to death. Big knot on your head." He gestured to her forehead.

Beth's hands flew up to her head and she winced as her fingers met with the tender flesh. "I must have hit it in the river." She suddenly had memories flood her mind. Atlanta burning. Her mama and Maggie sick as dogs and then the rains coming. The flood. Her father would be worried sick.

She moved to get up. "I need to find my family." Realizing her predicament, being very naked and in no shape to get up and find her clothing herself, she swallowed what little pride she had left. "I will need you to bring me my clothing." She made to wrap the blankets around herself.

He was shaking his head.

"Can't do, darlin'. The area's flooded within three miles of this place. I'm afraid we're stuck here til the waters recede. After that I can put you on the next wagon train to wherever you came from. " He gestured to the bowl of soup beside her on the table. "I'll try to find you something dry to put on. Your things are still drying out. In the meantime, sip on that soup. You've been out all day." He paused for a moment. "Sorry." He gestured to her wet clothing again. "I had to get you dry afore you froze."

Beth flushed at his reference to her body. She steeled her jaw. "I'm from Atlanta. I am not from anywhere anymore. They burned it all." She finished quietly, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. She would not cry in front of this stranger.

He nodded. He had left Georgia just before Union troops had reached the area. "Heard about that. 'M real sorry. So your family was killed there?" He sensed the sadness in her eyes.

She shook her head emphatically. "No, no, we were on our way out west. My brother Shawn is in the army. He said we could find land and a new start out there. There was a flood, I got caught in the river current." She looked at him.

Daryl caught the stark sadness that crept into her baby blue eyes and damn if his heart didn't trip up something awful. "They are probably lookin' for you." He knew if she was his family, _he_ would be looking for her.

She shook her head sadly. "That's just it. They will think I am dead." They would too. She'd never been the strongest and they had always tried to protect her from everything. But this latest turn of events that had uprooted their whole lives. There was nothing and no one that could protect Beth from that kind of harshness that was so readily available in this world.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I'll help you find them then. So you can prove to 'em you're stronger than they thought."

He knew it was the right thing to say when she beamed at him, some kind of heavenly light coming from her face and lighting up the whole damn night.

"I'll take those things to wear now" Beth looked at him. She did not know his name and he didn't know hers. "If we're to embark on a journey together, it's only fitting we know each other's names don't you think?"

Daryl looked at her and he couldn't help the slight upturn at his lips. "'m Daryl. Daryl Dixon." He turned back to the trunk he'd been rifling through since she first opened her eyes and demanded clothing, pulling out some passable items. They were mens' things but they'd do while her own items dried out.

Beth looked at the man who had just handed her a pair of mans pants and a button up shirt almost identical to the one he was wearing and flushed. "Well Mr. Dixon, my name is Beth Greene. I'm pleased to meet ya." She eyed him carefully as he turned away giving her the privacy she needed to get dressed. And she was pleased to meet him. It was a curious thing, meeting this man. She should be scared out of her wits. He was everything her Daddy had always warned her to steer clear of, which was basically do not trust men in this world. Not now, maybe not ever. But she had been here, naked, under blankets albeit, but naked at his own hands and she didn't feel in the least violated. Somehow, Beth knew, Daryl Dixon was a good man.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Greene."

Daryl wasn't sure how to take this girl. She was not what he expected to say the least. When she had been passed out cold in his bed, huddled under the blankets and sleeping like the veritable dead, he'd thought she'd wake up shaking like a frightened kitten. The girl who stood before him was no scared animal, nor was she a girl. She was a woman. A beautiful woman, quite possibly the prettiest one he'd ever laid eyes on. That's what had his mind in a twist. What was it about her that drew him in?

* * *

They were setting out that morning. The had been there, as Daryl predicted, the last three days. Beth helped Daryl pack up a nice lunch of the last of the squirrel stew, setting aside the packet of the jerky that she'd helped him make yesterday. He taught her how to track a bit too, which had been pretty interesting. It was a skill that might come in handy down the road. Finally with the waters having receding from the roads well enough that they could travel, they set off on their way.

Daryl led the way down the mountain, his horse Timber following along behind them. Beth had described the general area where they had been and Daryl set towards where he thought she had come from up river. They tracked for damn near four hours before he finally called for a rest. So far, nothing had looked remotely familiar to the girl and he was starting to suspect that she had the sense of direction of a flea and they'd probably passed where her family's camp had been an hour ago.

He picked up a rock and skipped it across the water of the river. He looked around carefully; Beth was taking a trip to the privy, also known as the bushes close by. He could hear the rustle of her clothing. He didn't know what the hell he was going to do if they didn't find her family. No way in hell could he see himself saddled with this girl for any longer than he had to, no matter how pretty she was. She'd only slow him down, maybe even get him killed. Get them both killed and he didn't want the blood of some young innocent on his hands. It was the last thing he needed.

Beth finished her business and smoothed her skirts back down. They were terribly wrinkled from the awkward angle in which they had dried and they also still had bits of debris sticking to them. She mourned the loss of her three piece travel suit she had planned for the next day of their trip. It would have been much more suited to the weather, which was unseasonably cool and damp. The more they trudged through the forest, the more Beth longed for the cozy fire of the cabin they had left behind.

She looked up the crest of the next hill ahead of them. "There!" She exclaimed pointing the way that she had come with her father.

Daryl followed her up the trail to the place where it was obvious someone had camped recently. There was evidence of a fire and the remnants of a few rabbits. Someone was a good shot, he thought.

He watched the girl as she gasped as she came near a wooden cross staked in the ground by a tree. Her mother's pendant was hanging around it and she reached out to take it from the two sticks that had been wound together to form a makeshift grave marker. She pulled it over her head and tucked it under the collar of her shirt, letting it rest between her breasts. She turned back to face her companion.

"I told you they would think I was dead." Her voice was flat, despondent almost and it pulled on him somewhere deep inside. He walked over to where she was standing. He wasn't sure what to do exactly, he just stood beside her and let her. Just. Be. She was quiet, which bothered him. She had chattered nonstop all the way down the mountain and all the way here to where they stood looking at her own grave. So her silence now was making him slightly uneasy.

He shouldn't have been surprised when he felt her small fingers in his and her warm skin mingling with his. He looked down at their joined hands and he couldn't stop staring for a moment at the paleness of her flawless hand against his ruddier, world-worried skin. Her delicate bones felt just that; delicate. He felt a sudden urge of protection overcome him.

She dropped his hand suddenly and started off back down the path they had just come. "Where are you going?"

His face flushed. He didn't know why all the sudden he felt angry and wounded all at the same time but he could feel his blood beginning to boil. That was never a good thing.

"West. I am going to find them." He regarded her for a moment, feeling his anger seep away, being replaced with something else. Amusement? She was cute when she was angry, cheeks all fired up red and the heat in her eyes was menacing.

He snorted. "What are you going to do when you find them? If you find them?"

She turned around and glared at him for a moment before saying, her tone steely. "I'm going to tell them to go to hell."

His mama used to have a saying. She had a lot of sayings but none of them rang true in the end. But one stood out now. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned. He was thinking that maybe this one time, his mama may be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review below, xoxoxo


	3. Goin' west

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yep, still no summaries

He let her have her fun for a good ten minutes and then whistled to get her attention. She stopped ahead of him and turned to face him.

Well hell, he didn't know what to do with that. When she turned around, her face was tear-stained and it was obvious she had been crying. If there was one thing in this world Daryl didn't know how to handle, it was a blubbering female. He hoisted his bow up on his back as he approached her, some of the bite out of his tone from what it would have been. "You know where you're goin?" It was a fair question, especially since he suspected she had no fuckin' idea where she was, much less where she was headin', just walking in a blind rage. He guessed he might feel the same if his brother thought he was dead. Hell, he figured he and Merle had thought that of each other plenty of times before. He guessed that's why he didn't understand the anger and then the tears.

She turned on her heel again. "I am goin' West." She fairly spat the words at him. He smirked at her back. Little miss had a fiery temper when she was all riled up.

"Uh-huh. And you know where West is?" He was goading her now, he knew but it was all in harmless fun. She wasn't crying anymore, that was a start.

Beth merely nodded her head. She couldn't adequately describe her feelings right now even if she tried. She was equal parts angry and hurt and scared. She was so scared that she would never see any of them again but she was trying to believe, just like she had always been taught. She just had to get her bearings. Then she would be just fine.

* * *

They finally got on the right course, Daryl gently steering her in the right direction with subtle suggestions. After a while she took the hint and let him lead the way and they made better time. Of course as luck would have it, and Daryl could swear that he had none at all, Beth fell ill that night. He had laid out his bedroll and told her to sleep on it. She didn't hesitate and he noticed for the first time that she looked like hell, her cheeks having twin crimson blossoms.

"You okay?" He asked her.

She nodded at him tiredly and fell to the bedroll and was asleep within seconds. He stood there and shook his head and sat down beside her against the tree. He put his thumb to his mouth, worrying the flesh there. He built a small fire for warmth. She might not have been hungry but he was starving and he ate a few pieces of the jerky and ate the stew cold. He gently tried to shake her awake but she was out cold.

The moon was high in the sky when he woke beside Beth, the dying embers of the fire casting a small glow about their small camp. He noticed that though the fire had died considerably, there was an unmistakable warmth coming from beside him. He reached under the blanket where she had nestled her head beneath the covers and his heart seized with fear. She was burning up with fever. "Fuck." He swore softly. The girl was incapacitated twice now in one week. At this rate he was never getting to California.

He sat up the rest of the nice, swabbing her forehead and neck with his red cloth he carried in his back pocket. He used some of the water from his canteen to wet it down. She seemed a little cooler after and he hated that there was no doctor nearby. Even if they were in a town, it wasn't likely that it would have its own doctor. That kind of luxury got sparser the further one traveled to the west.

At first light, he packed up their tiny camp and attempted to get her up to no avail. He abandoned that thought and went in search of elderberry. He knew it had good healing properties and maybe it would help burn out some of the fever. Luckily he spotted some close to their camp and he brought it back and ground it into fine leaves and added it to the water. It was the best he could do but he did get her to take a few sips.

Finally, feeling he had no other choice, he hoisted her up until she was standing. She was moaning softly and he had the oddest feeling of irritation and sorrow. He sighed. It took some doing but he finally maneuvered her up onto the horse. After it was clear that she would not be able to stay on by herself, he hopped on behind her and held her back against him as he made the careful journey towards what he felt was the nearest town. Doctor or no, she needed someplace to heal. At the very least they might be able to find an inn. But one more night out in the open as sick as she was and he may as well have left her on that river bank.

* * *

He couldn't believe it but he found a place for them to stay. He had checked at the inn but they had taken one look at Beth's fever cheeks and had turned him away with their mouths set in a thin line and the door shut in his face. He couldn't blame them. Disease could run rampant in small towns and if it was bad enough, it could wipe out half their population.

He found a room for rent by an ad for the general store. It was one of those places where if you paid your money up front, there were no questions asked. He tied Timber to the post out front and carried Beth inside the tiny room equipped with a bed, a wash basin and a chamber pot. It had all the necessities as far as Daryl was concerned. He had spied a water pump outside. He could make good use of that making cool compresses for Beth to burn out what was left of her fever. He laid her out on the bed and set to work, stripping her down to her chemise and pantaloons, giving no thought to propriety, only caring about getting her fever down.

Finally after three hours of tireless work, her breathing finally slowed to normal and she was resting comfortably. He covered her with the blanket at the bottom of the bed and fell back beside her, exhausted. Tomorrow he could make sure she got the care she needed. He'd put her on a stagecoach to the West. But he couldn't wait anymore. He had to get to his brother and as much as he had enjoyed her company, she was slowing him down. He looked over at Beth, sleeping peacefully beside him and brushed his hand over her forehead, breathing a sigh of relief when she still felt cool to the touch. He would miss her but this was for the best. He sighed, thinking about the long journey ahead. He didn't think he'd ever been so exhausted. He didn't think he even had time to think about what he had done before he drifted off, blissfully unaware of the fact that things were about to change.

* * *

He awoke the next morning, he was instantly aware of one single fact, his pants felt tight in the groin something awful. This thought was immediately followed with the fact that Beth's arm was draped perilously close to the area that most concerned him. He shifted slightly and she stirred and he held his breath, fearful that she would wake and realize the very awkward predicament they were in or worse, that her hands would go roaming as she stretched herself awake. Daryl flew off the bed when the latter happened an instant later and he felt the silk of her fingers slide against his lower abdomen, where his shirt was still unbuttoned.

Beth sat up, her hair tumbling about her shoulders. She barely remembered falling asleep last night. Daryl had evidently been beside her sleeping. She thought back over the previous night and realized she had very little memory. Again. She was sick; that much she remembered. She remembered thinking that God was punishing her for having ill thoughts of her family. She sighed, watching Daryl as he pulled on his boots and grabbed his bow off the chair.

"Gonna see about breakfast." He growled and left the tiny room they were with a loud slam of the door.

Beth couldn't help the slight jump at the noise. She let the blanket fall from her body and realized that she was again without many of the clothes that she remembered having on when she was last conscious. She supposed she must have had a fever. Daryl had taken care of her. Again. What was it with this man and his penchant for undressing her?

She thought about it for a moment, the implications and she felt an ache deep in her belly at the sudden realization that she actually liked the idea of him undressing her. Beth Ann Greene, you stop that, she chastised herself. Maggie would be glad to hear of it if she were here. Maggie had always been the more adventurous one whereas Beth was shy.

But that wasn't destined to happen, she thought sourly. They all thought she was dead. They had written her off as nothing more than another dead girl. She'd heard the tales of women out on the trails to the west. Word had gotten back to the east that girls didn't often make it. Some were kidnapped by the Indians but most died from disease and that was to say nothing of the women who died in childbirth out on the trails. Beth was determined to not be one of them. Made no difference whether or not looking at the man she was with wasn't going to help her one bit. So what if he was handsome and every time he looked at her it looked like he was undressing her with his eyes?

* * *

Daryl went about getting them some corn cakes with real maple syrup and pulled his haul back to their small rented room. He was in luck. He had inquired about a Stagecoach coming through and the room and board across town had agreed to put Beth on it the next time it came through. He had to get out of there. He hated leaving her there but taking care of a pretty blonde while he tracked across the mud and muck of uncharted land was not something he was prepared to do.

He walked back in the room to find that she was nearly dressed again. He placed her share of their meal on the table beside her. He stood back and looked at her for a minute. One errant lock was sticking out all haywire from the rest of the wheat-blonde mess of curls on her head.

"What?" Beth moved her hand to her head. He was staring at her with the most intense look in his eyes. Again, like he was undressing her.

Daryl balked at her words. He couldn't bring himself to utter the words that her hair needed smoothing down, because that would mean admitting he was looking at her in the first place. That was not something he was prepared to do either. Instead he did the most fool thing he could have done and he reached his hand out and smoothed the lock down with the other curls. Soft. Her hair was incredibly soft beneath his rough fingers.

 

 

Beth flushed as she felt Daryl's hand against her head, such an intimate gesture. "I bet my hair looks a fright."

""S fine." Daryl cleared his throat and turned away. Seeing her in the clear light of day after what he'd just asked the caretaker of the bed and breakfast across town, he felt the sting of guilt creeping up into his chest. He forged ahead with his plan. "Thought I'd be movin' on. I can send ya on the next Stagecoach West or there is one heading back East tomorrow."

Beth just stared at him and then at her hands in her lap. He was leaving her. "You said you'd help me find them." She tried to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice but she couldn't help it. She had no one. Her eyes met his and there was a storm of thoughts in his blue eyes, she thought.

"That was before. When we thought they were still here lookin' for ya. Now it'd be like finding a needle in a haystack. It ain't nice out there." He gestured with his head towards the door.

Beth knew he was talking about life on the trails. It was for pioneers. It was for go-getters. It was not for the likes of Beth Greene, Southern belle and Daddy's little girl.

She stood up and approached him. "I get it. You think I won't make it. But I can shoot a gun and wrestle a sheep to the ground. I can make sure my knee hits a certain part of a man's body so he doesn't try anything that he shouldn't. I survived nearly drowning and knocking my head against a giant boulder. I survived whatever god-awful plague that befell Maggie and my mama. And I will survive out there too." She took a deep breath and fought the scream but damn it she was tired of people counting her out just because she was small or because she looked like she didn't have what it took to survive this world.

 

 

Daryl looked at her, five feet nothing, all flame and sparks, and he had to suppress a smile. She was tough, he'd give her that. Still, he couldn't be responsible for letting her get killed. "I'd never forgive myself if somethin' happened to you. And out there, it ain't a matter of if, it's a matter of when, Miss Greene." He pleaded his point to what was hopefully her more logical side.

She put her hands on her hips and regarded him. "Mr. Dixon, I am not someone's responsibility. I am 18 years old, a grown woman. I am responsible for myself. You can either agree to go with me or I can go on my own but, either way, I'm _going_." She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for his response.

He snorted. "How are you going to get there? Far as I can tell you got nothing but the clothes on your back and a pretty smile."

 

 

Beth opened her mouth and closed it again with his last statement. It both stirred ire in her blood and thrilled her heart that he thought she had a pretty smile but it also meant he thought she was no more than a pretty face, only caring about superficial things in life. Still, he thought she was pretty maybe. o She flushed and straightened a little, the Greene iron will rising up in her. She marched over to the bed where her coat lay at the foot. "I'll be needing a knife." She held her hand out patiently.

Daryl stared at her dumbly and then came to when she was holding her hand out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife, handing it to her carefully, watching her curiously as she expertly gripped the knife in her hand and slit the fibers at the seam of her coat. "If you go and cut up your only coat." He didn't have time to finish his sentence before Beth pulled out a large stack of notes. There must be a thousand dollars in her hand!

"That's a lot of money. How do you know I ain't some robber?" Daryl asked her. He had never seen that much money before.

"My mama sewed these pouches in all our coats in case something like this happened. So you see Mr. Dixon, I have money. I can pay someone to take me or I can pay you. I much prefer you since I already know you and I am fairly certain I can trust you since you seem to have a penchant for saving my life." Beth looked at him and that's when she knew she had him.

 

 

Damn it all to hell; why did she have to go and bring that up? He sighed. "Fine, but you ain't paying me. I'll provide you safe passage, meaning I won't let you get yourself killed but in return you gotta listen to me. You do what I say when I say so I get you there. _Alive_." He added the last part for emphasis. He needed her to understand the terms of their agreement.

Beth nodded her head furiously. "Yes. I'll do whatever you want. Anything." She flushed at the implications of her words and nearly bit a hole in her tongue to keep herself from retracting the statement.  

 

 

Daryl cleared his throat at what she just said. He couldn't believe he had just been railroaded into this thing. He walked to the door and turned the knob. He turned when he heard her voice calling him back.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Beth demanded.

Daryl turned to face her. "We're burnin' daylight. Time to get some road behind us."

 

 

Beth smiled at his retreating back and followed him out the door, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. She knew she'd likely not feel great but it seemed she had gotten a lighter case of whatever ailment had befallen her mother and sister. Even though the remnants of fever lingered in the slight burn of her eyes, she forged forward. She was going to find her family and Mr. Dixon was going to help her. Before they set out, she'd need to find herself another bonnet. She'd burn in an instant in this noonday sun.

They set out to the general store and Beth thought how domestic it was. Just like a couple on their way to the market for supplies for their homestead. Beth had always had an adventurous spirit. Going West with Mr. Dixon was appealing to that side. That and something else. She was pulled to him like a moth to a flame but she couldn't help it. She might get burned but being near him made her feel something she hadn't even know she was missing until now. He made her feel alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, but be gentle. Posting this has made me weepy with feels. xoxoxo


	4. Like the hounds of hell were upon them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah.....nope. Still no summary

They set out at noon that day and though Daryl knew they wouldn't get too far before sundown, it felt good to be back on the open road. He'd not planned on taking her with him. So why did he feel the exact opposite of how he expected to. He had thought he would be annoyed by her and expected his temper to run short as it always did. He also expected he would feel greatly inconvenienced, but so far he had been surprised to find that he actually enjoyed talking to her. What was more, she wasn't one of those women that needed to fill a silence with idle chatter and he could appreciate that about her. Even better than that, she was a good travel companion, eager to help him with the horses and wagon, although he still hadn't let her drive yet.

By the end of the third day, they had settled into a routine. The first couple of days Beth had still felt ill and he could tell but to her credit, she kept up with him just fine.

When they woke up that morning, she made them a simple breakfast from their supply they'd gotten from the general store where they had talked a farmer out of his horse and covered wagon. The gentleman had been planning a trip west to see his sister in the spring but he'd said the extra money would allow him to afford the lumber he really needed to do the job right. The wagon they'd bought from him was standard and covered with tarpaulin. It was not the fanciest outfit he'd ever seen but it would do the job.

Daryl adjusted his hat on his head to block out the setting sun as he directed the horses to a small outcropping of trees well off the beaten path. As he pulled up under the canopy of trees, he noted how sparse the leaves and trees were getting on their landscape the further west they went.

 

 

Beth watched as Daryl set about feeding and watering the horses, thankfully finding a small stream nearby.  She managed to scare up a dinner of some of the beans she had made the night before and added some of the dried beef they had brought with them as well. She sliced up the two remaining apples and added them to their tin plates. It wasn't a meal fit for a king but it would do, thought Beth. She wiped her hands on the sides of her skirt and then reached up to her head to tuck the errant pieces of hair that had fallen out of the bun she had constructed that morning.

She thought back over that morning as Daryl had bolted from the wagon the second morning in a row, three if she counted the morning in the room they had rented when she had finally awoken from her illness. She thought she knew what was happening and she was amused that he was so put out by it. She had grown up on a farm and had an older brother to boot. Though it wasn't proper to talk of such things, she was familiar enough with the male anatomy that she knew how things worked. Besides, Shawn had no qualms with making his sisters squeal with such tales as how a certain part of a boy was more awake in the morning than the rest of him.

Were she a true southern lady like all the old bitties at every cotillion her Aunt Helen had made her attend, she'd be offended and appalled that he was in that state in her presence. But she had never been a southern lady. She was too much a Greene. She had been raised God-fearing sure but she had never much cared what other people thought about her.

Still, Beth was not stupid. She knew what people would assume about her relationship with one Mr. Dixon. They would assume that they were sharing a bed. They weren't, but for the first time since they had embarked on this journey Beth wondered about the propriety of their situation. He kept his distance at night when they slept in the back of the wagon, but she was aware of his presence. She kind of figured the way he acted sometimes that he was aware of hers too. She smiled at the thought of that. Something about Daryl thinking of her in that way made her want to sing. So she did.

"Pretty little bonny lass watches the ship leave shore

Watching her lover, the white caps leaving her heart no more."

 

 

Daryl walked back over to where Beth had just placed his plate on the buckboard and picked it up. "Looks good." He looked up at her. He liked her voice. It sounded real pretty and he found he liked how he felt when she was singing. He'd heard her before. At first it was just soft humming and then pretty soon she would sing little bits of songs from time to time. He never said anything, but he thought he held his breath every time she let the melodies slip from her lips. He'd never heard anything like it, just like a songbird singing after the rain. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and spooned a forkful of beans into his mouth.

 

 

Beth watched amazed as Daryl flushed red when she looked at him taking his plate.

He looked up from his food and reached up to take his hat off of his head and placed it beside him on the log he had dragged over for them to sit on by the fire. "Sorry. Ain't much used to havin' to be mannerly."

Beth smiled at him softly. "I don't think things like that matter much out here with it being just the two of us. Isn't that why they call the West wild?"

Daryl eyed her carefully, the bite of food in his mouth hard to swallow all the sudden with her drawing attention to the fact that they were out here all alone. It was in no way proper for a lady such as herself being alone in the company of a scoundrel like him. He placed his plate to the side and looked at her.

"You should sing some more." It wasn't what he'd been planning on saying. He'd been planning on telling her that she could trust him to be a gentleman but instead out came his request.

Beth didn't know what to say. It was the last thing she had expected him to ask of her. "You want me to sing?"

Daryl nodded, now that the request was out there, there was a good chance she would say no and he desperately hoped she would say yes. He liked her voice. The crystal blue of her eyes sparked a tiny white hot fire as she grinned at him.

 

**One morning, one morning, one morning in May** ****  
**I spied a young couple all on the highway** ****  
**And one was a lady so bright and so fair** **  
** **And the other was a soldier, a brave volunteer**

**Good morning, good morning, good morning to thee,** ****  
**Now where are you going my pretty lady?** ****  
**I'm going to travel to the banks of the sea** **  
** **To see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.**

**They hadn't been there but an hour or two** ****  
**Till out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew** ****  
**The tune that he played caused the vallies to ring.** **  
** **O harken, says the lady, how the nightingales sing.**

**Pretty lady, pretty lady, 'tis time to give o're.** ****  
**O no, pretty soldier, please play one tune more.** ****  
**I'd rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string** **  
** **Than to see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.**

**Pretty soldier, pretty soldier, will you marry me?** ****  
**O no, pretty lady that never can be.** ****  
**I've a wife back in London and children twice three.** **  
** **Two wives in the army is too many for me.**

 

He watched her face transform as her voice carried out over their evening, the sun having faded and the sky a bright backdrop of orange and golds and reds providing the most disarming backdrop for her the smooth porcelain of her face, the halo of her sunny hair framing her baby blues piercing his in a way that had his blood slowing down and speeding up all at once inside his veins, just beneath the surface of where his skin tingled. All that from her singing. He knew he'd thought it before, but he had really never met anyone like her before.

She finished the song and looked at him and her face blushed a fiery red. "Daddy would have my hide if he heard me singing that one."

Daryl chuckled. "Not really a family type song I guess."

"Oh no, it's right improper. Mama would say it was shameful." She shifted her gaze to the direction of the stream and Daryl didn't miss the look in her eyes.

He followed her gaze, seeing it from her perspective. She probably wasn't very comfortable this close to the rapidly moving water. "We can move back a ways if you want. The stream isn't moving too fast though." He wanted to slap himself in the head and kick his own ass for not being more sensitive. She probably was half scared of being this close to a moving body of water after what had happened to her.  He made to get up and she followed after him.

He hastily cleaned up their plates and began throwing items into the back of the wagon. If they went up the road a ways maybe they could find higher ground. He stiffened suddenly when he felt her fingers soft and warm lightly gripping his arm. "No Daryl. I'm fine. I was looking at the creek because I wanted to wash up." She looked at him shyly, her lashes sweeping her cheekbones as he realized what she was asking of him. She needed him to stand guard. They'd been talking the night before of all the unrest they had both heard about the further they traveled. There were territorial wars that had broken out amongst the pioneers and the natives who'd inhabited the land for centuries.

He stopped throwing items into the back of the wagon and turned to look at her. She dropped her hand from his arm and he felt the absence instantly and it puzzled him and intrigued him and irritated him all at the same time. He found he craved her touch. He'd gone his whole entire existence hating the thoughts of anyone touching him, growing up like he did. But he liked Beth touching his arm, found he wanted her to do it again.

He nodded at her request. "You need me to keep watch for you." She was so damn beautiful standing there staring at him with what looked to him suspiciously like bedroom eyes. He knew then that he had to be crazy. A lady as pretty as her wouldn't look twice at the likes of him; a Dixon no less.

Beth nodded and reached into her new bag from the general store and retrieved the items she would need for a bath. She was practically shivering now. The water would be cold but the past two days after all the rain had been unseasonably warm so maybe it wouldn't be too bad. Daryl led the way down to the stream as Beth picked her way over the dirt and fallen branches closer to the edge of the water.   Beth walked over to the nearest bush and began to undress, turning to find Daryl watching her. Their eyes locked and Beth's mouth went dry.

Daryl, suddenly realized that he was eyeballing her like some, well like some ordinary man and he felt ashamed. A man like him had no business looking at her like he was and feeling the things he was feeling. He turned away. "I'll be right here. Just holler if you need me." He pretended to be interested in the surroundings but it was a clearing just like every other they had stopped at in the past few days.

 

 

Beth quickly undressed to her chemise and pantaloons and stepped into the clear stream, the iciness stealing her breath in a harsh gasp.

 

"You okay?" Daryl called over his shoulder. She was probably freezing her sweet ass off in that water. Daryl planned on washing up after she was done. They both had a fair amount of dust on them from the rough roads they had traversed lately.

He listened to her splashing about in the stream and tried not to imagine what she might look like with the water running over her body. Tried not to think about what the temperature of the water would do to her skin. To other parts of her that he shouldn't be thinking about.

"All done." She called from behind him and he turned and nothing could have prepared him for the punch to the gut he felt when she stood before him, damp hair dripping over her shoulder, eyes wide with innocence. Her lip was trembling and all Daryl could think was how badly he wanted to warm up her slightly blue-tinged lips. _Kiss them until they were pink again._

Daryl shook his head slightly and nodded his head to the stream. "Gonna wash up myself if you could take watch for me."

 

 

Beth beamed at him. She was secretly pleased that he trusted her to watch out for him while he took care of intimate business. Not that she hadn't watched for him while nature called as it did. She had, plenty of times but somehow this was different, domestic almost. She couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips even if she tried.

Beth turned her back to him and watched for any signs of intruders.  So far they hadn't run into any trouble but that could change at any moment. Beth knew. She had never thought Sherman's men would burn Atlanta where it stood, but she witnessed it with her own eyes, the images burned into the back of her mind for all eternity. It wasn't all that hard to imagine there were evils that lurked near where they were now.

Daryl came up beside her and they headed back to their makeshift camp. It was nearly full on dark by the time they got settled back beside the dying fire. Beth shivered slightly as she sat down on the log. She noticed a sloshing sound and looked at Daryl who met her curious gaze with an answering smirk. "My socks got wet when I washed up."

"Well you should let them dry by the fire. Can't have you getting sick too." Beth hated that the words had slipped out. She hated drawing attention to any time she had felt the least bit weak.

Daryl nodded at her, not questioning why he was following the orders of a five foot nothing female. He laid them out across the log, close to the fire but not so much so that they would catch fire in the night, rendering them useless. Looking at Beth in the firelight he imagined she was like some kind of goddess, making men do her bidding. Without understanding why, he knew he'd be one of them if she gave him the chance. Not that it was likely to happen, mind you, but it was still nice to think about.

"They have holes. You should let me sew them up." Beth said, nodding to the mangled looking fabric laid out on the log.

"My other pair is like that too." Daryl couldn't help but grin as he revealed that to her. He knew she'd think it was funny for whatever reason.

Beth laughed. "Go fetch them and my bag and I'll sew them."

"It's too dark, Beth." He protested.

"Nonsense. I can see plenty by this firelight." She looked up at him primly and he stared at her for a long moment and she was drawn in by his intense gaze and the fact that he had just called her by her proper name. The familiarity struck a chord in Beth and she wanted nothing more than for her name to come from his lips every day for the rest of her life. His voice was gruff, almost like he'd swallowed pebbles from the creek bed, but she found she liked it all the same.

Beth asking to mend his socks struck something in him so deep he felt it all the way into his core pulling at his belly and his heart and every muscle tensed and relaxed thinking how it meant she cared. Beth cared about him, Daryl Dixon. No one had ever cared about his well being before. No, he'd never met anyone like her. He got up and got the items she asked for and he watched her deftly work the needle and thread in and out of the fabric, watching her work.

Looking at her he learned a few things. When Beth was concentrating on something her brow furrowed up and she pulled the corner of her bottom lip in with her upper teeth in the most fascinating way. That intrigued him more than anything he thought, just that little bit of skin worked between her teeth, the same way her fingers were working the needle.  He also noticed her breathing. He could hear every breath she took and what was more he could see it the way her small breasts jutted out with each breath.

Beth tied off the knot expertly and handed his socks back to him much faster than he would have liked as her being intent on her task meant that she didn't realize that he was looking at her like he was, studying her so.

She knew he thought he was being sly but she felt every heated gaze and she swore he could hear her thoughts and that was why he was looking at her like she held the keys to the universe. She handed him the socks back and placed her items back in her bag. Daryl got up and took his socks and her bag and placed both in the wagon, his thoughts still very much on her and how she was looking at him.

"Well it's probably time to turn in." She remarked.

Daryl looked at her for a long minute and realized that she was probably tired. He knew he was. He offered his hand to Beth to pull her to her feet. He took in the heat in her gaze as he pulled her up.

His grip was strong as he pulled her to standing and when she stood up that quickly she got a little off balance and stumbled, gravity forcing her forward into his chest. She put her hands up to steady herself and found that they flattened against his chest, his shirt still slightly damp from his makeshift bath. She looked up, half afraid and half giddy for his reaction to her touch and she is totally unprepared for the way his eyes meet hers and then his eyes drop to her lips and she suddenly knew that he was going to kiss her.

Suddenly there was a loud noise, like a calling banshee and Beth instantly knew that they were being raided. It happened so fast she didn't have to time to think, only to act. Daryl kicked into gear and threw their remaining items into the wagon while the approaching chaos got closer and closer. He was glad he had tied the horses back to the carriage. He had taken to doing that before going to bed because you never knew. He pushed Beth up onto the buckboard. "Get down and stay down."

He pulled his pistol from his side and had it cocked and ready. He heard the war cry from behind him and he looked around as he hoisted himself up onto the buckboard beside Beth and grasped the reins. He locked eyes with a native, the eyes dark and the war paint would have been frightening if he hadn't had the mantra running through his head. " _Keep Beth safe._ " He didn't know why the man upstairs had placed this angel in his care, but he'd be damned if he let anything happen to her now.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side and felt a warm trickle traveling down his back. He reached behind him to realize he had been shot with an arrow. "Fuck."

Beth gasped as she saw the arrow pierce Daryl's side just below his ribcage. She held her breath and took the reins from him as he slumped back and leaned on her slightly.

"It's gonna be okay Daryl." She snapped the reins and the horses sprung to life and took off, acting, to their credit, like the hounds of hell were on their heels. Beth had never driven a wagon this large before but it was like some instinct took over. Daryl Dixon had saved her life on more than one occasion. She'd be damned if she let him die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment below if you so desire. xoxoxo


	5. "Should have kissed ya."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ..........

Beth pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the most derelict structure she had ever laid eyes on. She eyed it up and down and then looked at her companion. It was an abandoned mine shanty. She nudged Daryl's arm with her hand, gently, hating that she had to wake him. She looked at where a dark shock of his chestnut hair had fallen over the swell of her breast, her blouse having come unbuttoned in all the commotion of their flight from camp.

She had long since given up trying to keep propriety as he had leaned against her chest. Still, her face was heated despite the circumstances. She secured the reigns and nudged him again and he stirred finally and sat up.

When Daryl sat up, the first thing he noticed was that he had been lying on something very soft. Her breasts. He didn't have time to even process that before he was hit with a fierce stabbing pain in his side and he remembered the attack. He couldn't believe he had passed out. He reached back and felt his hand being batted away.

"Don't touch it. You'll get an infection. We have no medicine here and I imagine there isn't a doctor within one hundred miles any direction." She fussed at him as she stepped from the carriage.

He had to admire her spunk. Also he had to admire her bravery. A Dixon in pain was no one to be tangled with especially if the pain came from an enemy threat. Daryl had never considered the natives to be enemies. Until now that is. He counted himself lucky that he was the one hit with the arrow and not Beth.

Beth held her hand out for him to climb from the wagon but he dismissed it with an impatient wave of his hand. He was a stubborn mule and she had a feeling she was in for a fight for what she had planned. She needed to get a good look at his wound and then she could decide on a course of action.

She led the way up the steps to the porch and turned the knob on the door and she was not surprised it was not locked this far out that it was. She walked in and Daryl followed after her. It was a small modest standard one room cabin. It looked like an abandoned homestead, but its inhabitants had left behind most of their belongings, including a large bed and neatly stacked firewood in the corner of the room. There was small woodstove and a table and two chairs. It was not the nicest place Beth had ever seen but the inside of it was surprisingly warm and inviting compared to what she had seen driving up.

Daryl followed Beth inside the shack and leaned on the wall as she inspected the place. She nodded her head to the bed. "Go and lie down. I'll fetch some things from the wagon." She picked up her skirts and headed for the door before he called her back.

Beth's heart pounded at his voice. She hoped he wasn't going to suggest that he go get the things they would need for the night. Looking at the paleness of his face and the sweat that had gathered on his brow, he was in no shape to do anything but what she asked of him. She leveled a gaze at him and was surprised when he handed her a gun.

"Don't hesitate to shoot any of 'em." Daryl looked her in the eye making sure she understood what he was asking of her. He didn't know why but he wasn't a bit surprised as she took the gun in her hand like it was an object she held every day. He suddenly got the feeling that the eldest Greene must have taught his daughter a thing or two. He had never met the man, but he suddenly gained a respect for the man who'd evidently taught his daughter how to defend herself.

She nodded. "Yes, Mr. Dixon." She flashed a smile at him before disappearing.

It seemed only moments after he finally went to lie down on the bed that she came back in but when he opened his eyes, Beth had started a fire and was now working the buttons open on his shirt. His heart thundered in his chest and his hands flew to her wrists, gripping them tightly, his entire body instantly rigid and hyper-aware of the fact that she was perilously close to seeing the truth. The truth about his ugly past that had made his body an even uglier landscape, the scars of his childhood marring the flesh, puckered with silvery memories here and there.

Daryl's eyes met hers and she saw the war there, bigger than the war they had left behind and bigger than the one they had just faced. Fire and shame danced in his gaze and she was instantly curious about what had his posture ramrod stiff. "Daryl you have to let me take your shirt off. You're bleedin'. A lot." She emphasized the last part and didn't break his gaze to let him know that this was serious. She was genuinely frightened for his life.

Beth worried her lip between her teeth looking at the wide red stain on his blue chambray shirt and while it didn't make her queasy it struck a fear within her and that was definitely churning her stomach, making her wish she had not eaten anything. She could not let anything happen to him. It was a feeling that was foreign to her this fierce protectiveness that she felt for this person, this man whom she barely knew. She didn't understand any of it; only that he had already saved her life twice and she would hardly be repaying him that debt if she let him die because of whatever it was that he didn't want her to see. She had a friend back home that had one leg slightly longer than the other. Maybe it was some anomaly such as that. She couldn't imagine but she knew that it wouldn't bother her in the least. She needed him to know that.

"Daryl I don't care what is under this shirt except for the wound. It probably needs stitching." Beth chided, putting her fingers back at the buttons since he had finally let her hands go.

He moved his hands back to her wrists, lighter this time. She stilled her movements and looked at him and her heart broke in a million pieces at what she saw. She reached with her free hand to the bottle of whiskey she had found in the cupboard beside the stove remnants of a life past and she couldn't imagine why the former occupants of this homestead had left it behind. She was only glad that they had.

Daryl took the bottle from her and uncapped it, taking a generous swig. He supposed there was no arguing with her. She was persistent and there was a fierce determination about her. God help her future husband. God help _him_ , he thought. He struck both those crazy thoughts with a swear, resigning himself to whatever torture awaited him. "Damn it. Fine." He set the bottle down after taking another long swallow, the dark amber liquid a balm and odd comforting burn in the back of his throat. He felt it pool in his belly, warm and close and he could feel the tension slipping from his shoulders though his side still ached like hellfire.

Beth moved her fingers against the buttons, working them loose one at a time and working the fabric from his shoulders. She still had to remove his undershirt and she reached for the hem only to have him stop her again. She looked up at him, frustrated with his lack of trust but it was warring with a tenderness she couldn't help but feel because she could tell he was struggling.

"I need to tell ya." He said, his eyes meeting hers and the blue of them was so deep it was like looking at the sky, just a vastness and a mystery of where it all ended.

"Tell me what." She prodded gently, her voice soft.

Daryl fought with the words that were jumbled up in his throat crowding his space and air and he wasn't sure how to say what he had to say so he just forged ahead. "My Pa wasn't like yours most likely. He was a drunk, mean when he was." He looked at her and found none of the pity he thought he would. Only understanding and he felt suddenly an overwhelming sense of gratitude and the whole thing came spilling out.

"My ma? She tried to keep him from me and my brother, but she was no match for his temper. No one was." He slid his arm out of one sleeve. "He used to get so mad and he'd take a slip of rope and braid it up. Never knew when he was going to fly off and grab it, start slinging it about. His fists were sometimes kinder in comparison."

Beth listened to his tale with an open mind and a broken heart. His childhood was so vastly different from her own that for the first time in her life she was ashamed of the life of privilege she had. He was struggling with the shirt now and she watched as she pulled out his knife.

She hesitated for a moment before reaching her hand out and stilling his movements. "Let me." She knew he was trying to free the shirt from around where the arrow pierced the fabric then disappeared into his body.

Daryl watched as she cut carefully around the fabric releasing the arrow from the confines. She had gentle fingers and a calming touch. Fingers that skimmed along the surface of his skin along his abdomen as she unfastened the last button and he let the shirt fall behind him. He hoped the people here had something else for him to wear. Looking down at the crimson-stained garment he had just cast aside, it didn't look like the blood was coming out of it anytime soon, maybe ever.

"It looks pretty bad. We need to remove the arrow but it'll probably tear more on the way out. It'll need stitches." Beth repeated her advice of earlier.

Daryl winced as she pressed around the wound, testing how much it was bleeding and there was still a steady stream of it flowing down. He could feel the warmth seeping into the waistband of his pants. "You'll have to pull it out."

Beth appraised him and nodded, getting up from behind him on the bed, glancing at his scars one more time. She walked over to where the pile of kindling next to the neatly stacked firewood and came back with a short thick stick for Daryl to bite down on. She handed it to him. He'd know what he needed to do. "Better take another swig of that whiskey while you're at it." She advised, setting up her surgical area with an array of clean torn rags she had found with the bottle of whiskey, her needle and the sturdiest thread she had. She only hoped it would hold his wound.

Beth peered around his shoulder and he turned his head, his face now inches from hers. She was so close he could feel her breath on his lips and he wondered what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against hers. ''Get a grip Dixon," he thought. "Girl was here trying to save your life and all you can think about is how she tastes". That got his mind to thinking of other things until she interrupted his train of thought. He would thank her except he didn't want her to know where his mind had been.

"You ready?" She asked him. She didn't want to do this. In fact she would rather do just about anything else but it was necessary. How she wished her Daddy was here. He would know exactly what to do. "As soon as you say I'm gonna probe the wound and see how far the arrow head goes in."

Daryl nodded and put the stick in his mouth, thankful for the already numb feeling he was getting from the alcohol. He nodded to give her the go-ahead. He winced and cried out as he felt her fingers digging in his side feeling like she was touching all his internal organs and branding him with fire and he wished he'd drank the whole damn bottle of whiskey just so he could pass out again. Air hissed from between his teeth.

"I don't think it's deep. I think I can get it out. Do you want me to count or just do it?" Beth asked gently.

Daryl braced himself and talked around the stick. "Just get it over with."

It came out garbled but she got the gist. She braced one hand on the shaft of the arrow and used her other to pull out as straight as she could, hearing a sickening sucking sound as it pulled loose, a fresh gush of blood following it and Daryl cried out, slumping forward and breathing heavy. She wasn't going to ask if he was alright. He clearly was not and neither was she.

"I'm gonna sterilize the wound now. This is gonna hurt." No sense in lying. That was what Shawn had said when he sent his last letter. He was a medical officer in the Army. Some of the stories he told chilled her blood. He said he never lied to his patients and told them everything upfront. He said it was better that way. Beth had tended to agree with him, especially now.

"Here it comes." Beth poured a generous amount of the whiskey over the wound and to his credit, Daryl only groaned instead of crying out.

"I'm so sorry." Beth winced. She hated hurting him but she knew all these steps were necessary if he was going to survive this. She wouldn't let her mind go elsewhere to another alternative. It simply wasn't going to happen.

He didn't say anything the whole time she stitched the wound. She took care to not let the skin pucker up too much and stayed as straight as she could with her stitches. After she was done she took one of the rags and folded it in half and blotted at the blood. Daryl had taken over the bottle of whiskey long ago.

 

Daryl relaxed as she finished patching him up. Now that she was done stitching the burning fire of pain had subsided and he was now just left with a dull ache. She made a hell of a nurse maid. He couldn't get over how soft her touch was. Don't get him wrong; it hurt like hell her sewing him up just like she had his socks not an hour ago. But somehow it felt better. Course it could have something to do with the amount of whiskey he had to drink.

Beth cleaned up the bed area, thankful that she had spread one of the more tattered looking wool blankets under him so he didn't bleed too badly into the bedclothes. "You should lie down. I'll take care of the horses."

Daryl went to get up from the bed. "Ain't gonna have you going out there again Greene."

She looked at him curiously. He had never just used her surname before. He grinned at her. Oh, he was drunk. She smiled back at him softly. "Someone feels pretty good."

"Someone does." He agreed. He patted the bed beside him. "Come sit with me. I done told you all about myself and I don't know near 'nuf about you."

 

Beth hesitated.

 

"Horses are fine. You tied 'em off right?" He asked and she nodded. He couldn't take his eyes from her. She was about the prettiest thing he ever saw. He swore he saw the firelight dancing in her eyes and the flames licking a path on her skin, every visible inch that looked downright kissable.

Beth inhaled deeply as his eyes seemed to change. He was looking at her in a way that seemed like he was undressing her with his eyes or something. Well, he was looking like he wanted to kiss her. She didn't have much basis for her feeling except that his eyes were drawn and his pupils had dilated. And he kept looking at her lips. Maybe it was just the whiskey. Or the pain. Or maybe it was both. It had been quite a day. She watched as his eyes slid closed.

It was definitely the whiskey then. She smiled to herself as she leaned back against the pillows. She couldn't imagine a man like him, all worldly and strong, wanting someone like her, a meek little mouse. Her imagination got the better of her more often than not.

Beth leaned over and checked his wound but the bleeding had slowed to a tiny little trickle that was already starting to dry. It seemed the worst was over. His breathing was starting to even out. She closed her eyes and just as she did, she heard it.

"Should have kissed ya."

Her eyes flew open and she turned her head to look at him. Well damn if she hadn't been wrong about that one. He _had_ been wanting to kiss her. She was startled to realize that she wanted it too. Very, very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxo


	6. Maybe it was the whiskey

Her hand was shaking a bit as she drew her hand to his forehead. She panicked for a moment when he opened his eyes and he looked directly at her.

She smoothed the hair back from his forehead.

"Mmmmm that feels nice." He looked up at her, his eyes heavy and a silly grin on his face. He was completely inebriated and Beth found that she was amused.

"Get some sleep Daryl." She was willing to bet that he was going to regret his open manner in the morning. Somehow he didn't strike her as the warm romantic type.

Beth barely breathed as he lifted his good arm up to brush her hair back from her forehead just as she had just done for him, a mirror image of reverence and if she had been breathing at all, she was pretty sure no air would have reached her lungs.

"So pretty." He murmured, his hand slipping back down to his side and his eyes dropped closed. Beth still hadn't moved when she heard light snoring a few moments later. She finally pulled herself together enough to get up from the bed. He thought she was pretty.

She'd always found when her Daddy had been drunk that he spoke lies when he was angry. Shouts of wrong-doing and inadequacy that were misplaced in their house full of love. But when her father was in his "happy drunk" state, he exuded warmth, loving and human kindness. He'd made their mother blush on more than one occasion when he was in such moods. Yes, he had been quite the charmer at times back in his drinking days.

Beth didn't sleep a wink the whole night after she drew that comparison in her head. She had just done something she'd never done before. She never thought she'd see the day that someone would measure up to Hershel Greene but unless she missed something Daryl fit the bill perfectly. He was exactly the kind of man her father would approve of. If only he were here.

* * *

Before he even opened his eyes he knew he was alive, mostly because the stabbing pain in his side wasn't going to let him forget. He was vaguely aware of a form beside of him; he was guessing Beth. The events of the night before came flooding back to him and he was so grateful for her skilled fingers in stitching him up. She quite possibly saved his life.

The flesh of his side might ache but he also could still feel her fingers grazing across the skin there. He opened his eyes and looked to his left where she was curled on her side facing him. She had drawn a quilt up over him in the night. She had taken her hair down at some point and it spilled across her shoulders and the pillow behind her and he couldn't help but remember the afternoon he had found her, all wet and bedraggled on the shore of that river. It had been only last week but it felt a lifetime ago. He had gotten used to her being around, he discovered.

He glanced at her lips and had a vague niggling thought that he told her he wanted to kiss her. Surely he had not made an ass of himself like that. Sure he'd like to kiss her but he knew she didn't reciprocate that feeling. He stretched experimentally and gasped at the sudden sharp pain that shot through his side, then wanted to kick himself since she stirred beside him immediately on the intrusion of the morning quiet. He wasn't sure how to face her in light of the circumstances. She settled back down and he let out the breath he had been holding.

He got up gingerly, careful not to disturb her, dressing himself back in his blood-caked shirt. It would have to do for now as it was all he had and he certainly didn't want to go rifling through items and risk waking her up. He buttoned up his coat and eased the door open, wincing as he twisted the wrong way and felt a sharp pull in the muscles of his back, complaining at the intrusion after such a close call the night before. He walked over to the horses and took care of what needed to be done.

He didn't know what had gotten into him last night. Somehow with admiring Beth over the fire and her mending his socks he had forgotten that every single minute they were in the open they were in real danger. At any given moment, something could happen to them. Something just had. It could just as easily have been Beth who had taken an arrow and he didn't want to think about it.

Losing sight of the gravity of their situation was not something that was going to happen again. He was determined to remain level-headed from now on. He had a job to do. Get her there safely; get on with the rest of his life.

* * *

Beth opened her eyes and squinted against the light coming through the slats in the boards. This place barely qualified as shelter. She knew when they got to where they were going, her daddy would figure out a way to make them a fine house in even the most desolate land; _if_ she ever found them.

She sat up and stretched and dismissed the terrible though that it might never happen and welcomed in a warm memory of Daryl's voice last night before he went to sleep. Telling her how pretty she was and how he wanted to kiss her. She hoped he felt the same here in the light of day. She thought about it so much before she went to sleep last night, it had invaded her dreams. She blushed at the thought of the things he had done to her in that other world where conscious thought lay out of grasp but reality just wasn't the same.

Beth started at him walking in the cabin door. She saw the surly expression and knew instantly that she was going to have a fight on her hands to get him to open up about what he had said last night. "Mornin'." She said brightly. "You look better this mornin' than you did last night. Sleep must have done you some good."

"Mmm." He grumbled as he sat down to the breakfast she had prepared; just some cold biscuits and some rabbit meat leftover from lunch the day before.

"Maybe it was the whiskey." She was secretly thrilled when his eyes snapped to hers. She saw the fire in them but she didn't back down and something in her knew she was likely poking the bear, so to speak, but still she couldn't help herself.  Something in her, maybe it was instinct, pushed her to prod at him.  Just a little. "Do you remember anythin' you said last night?"

 

 

Daryl looked back to his plate. He couldn't believe this girl. She had to go bringing up the one thing he didn't want to fuckin' talk about. Next thing you knew she'd be bringing up the scars on his back too. He cringed at that memory as well as he shook his head at her question.

Beth decided to try a different tack. "I really appreciate you openin' up to me last night. And I'm sorry that happened to you."

Daryl stared at her for a long minute trying to decide if she was making fun of him or not. Her expression was genuine and she already had the most sincere voice he'd ever met anyway. He guessed she could probably charm the birds from the trees with that voice. What was it with him and this girl? He had a job to do. Get her there and keep her safe. He set his jaw in a hard line as he got up from the table.

Beth followed him to the wardrobe in the corner of the room intent on finding a  new shirt.  He began rifling through it looking for anything that might be able to replace the one he had on. He felt her touch upon his shoulder. 

"Daryl you gotta let me look at your bandage here in a minute." Her request was soft, like she was suddenly afraid of him. That made him madder than he already was. Because he'd die before he ever hurt her.

"I'll be fine." He dismissed her with a wave, color creeping up in his cheeks.

"Oh come on, maybe this time I'll drink too." He spun around and looked at her, hands on her hips, saucy look on her face and she giggled a little.

 

"Is this some kind of big joke to you?" He demanded, his ire rising.

 

Beth stepped back. "No, it's not a joke." She said evenly. What was with him? He was acting like a growly bear and she was having none of it. "I am trying to talk to you here. Or are you going to pretend you didn't say anything to me last night?" She challenged.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about. So quit your daydreamin' and let's get back on the road. Daylight's wastin'." He bit out.

Beth looked at him, clamping her mouth shut, knowing if she said a word he was going to get an earful and it wouldn't be very ladylike what she had to say. So she spun on her heel and stormed out of the cabin, setting off on foot. She didn't know where she was going; just away from him. She hadn't gotten more than fifty yards from the cabin and he was on her and reached down for her wrist and spun her around to face him. He had fire in his eyes and he was so close she could feel his breath hot on her face.

"You can't go stormin' off like that! And you can't go off on some little girl daydream about somethin' happenin'. In case you forgot, we could have died last night! We were attacked and it could happen again." He was much bigger than she recalled, hovering over her like he was.  Oh she was very aware of his in-your-face presence.

But she didn't back down. Her hand came up of its own accord, her pointer finger poked at his chest, something she would never dare do if she wasn't so incensed with his attitude towards her. "I didn't forget.  I remember very well, thank you very much.  The way I remember it, I saved your ass!"

Daryl regarded her for a long moment. He knew she had him in spades with that statement. He'd likely have bled out if he had been on his own. But then again, he might be far ahead of where he was now if she hadn't slowed him down. _Twice_. "Well I saved your ass too!"

They looked at each other for a long minute, their words hanging between them, both of them out of breath, chests heaving from their shouting match and all at once, the fight went out and he looked at her rosy lips and flushed cheeks and he was pulled forward by a force stronger than him.

Beth knew it the moment he looked at her, his last statement having left his lips. An impasse. They were at a crossroads and it felt like there was nothing that could stop the momentum of this snippet of time once it was set in motion. He took one more step towards her and she would never know which happened first but he gripped her upper arms and pulled her to him, his lips crushing against hers and she was shocked at first and then suddenly she was swept away in the current of whatever it was between them. Something fluidly jolting that pulsed in her veins and sent out a call to her heart, a call she wasn't sure she could answer but damn if she could stop herself from trying.

She sighed and opened her lips under his and his grip relaxed on her arm,s his fingers snaking back up her arms to her shoulders and then the back of her head until they tangled in her hair and he held her face to his. His tongue plundered her mouth and she felt wanted, possessed and something else all at the same time. Hunger. That was it. But it was an odd sort of ache, like something that needed filled, a longing and she couldn't place it and it seemed familiar all at the same time. She felt a tingle in her toes that traveled all the way up and made her face feel like it was on fire. That fire settled warm and delicious all over her body and she hadn't ever felt anything like it before.

 

 

Daryl had never tasted anything sweeter and it was just as he had thought it would be. She was all sugar and light and he never wanted to _stop_ kissing her. His tongue licked along the insides of her mouth and he heard her sigh and whimper and then felt her moan against his lips and it was suddenly all too much. He pulled away and looked at her, searching her eyes, wide and blue and brimming with the fire he knew he felt too. He stared at her for a minute, relieved to see that she was having as much trouble breathing as he was. Suddenly her lips were much too far away.

 

Beth felt empty when he pulled away and then she searched his eyes and saw it. He felt it too. He felt the same about her as she did for him and it thrilled her and scared her and made her want him to kiss her again. It made her want all sorts of things and her senses were overloaded all at once. Suddenly as if he heard her wishes, he was there, bending his head to hers as his lips met hers again, slower, more tender this time and she wound her arms up around his neck. She could feel his fingertips of one hand come to rest on her hip and the other hand was splayed across her lower back. Beth wasn't sure who was holding up who up at the moment.

There they stood outside the shambles of someone else's life, the cabin as abandoned as the landscape that surrounded it and Beth had never felt more at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxo


	7. Ain't Afraid of Nothin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> still nothing

Awkward. Everything was awkward. Beth alternated between daydreaming about their kisses, swooning over the moment he had gripped her arms and they had both given in to whatever this was between them, that and the desire that the kiss had never happened. Because it had made everything far too awkward to bear. Daryl was growling at her all the time and if he wasn't doing that he was quiet. Deafeningly so. The whole thing was starting to really make her nerves unravel. She fought with her mind against the memory of his lips on hers and lost at every turn. It was all she could think about, his hands on her arms. How strong he had felt; how male, how utterly primal.

She wanted him. She figured out later that night what needed filling. While Daryl had sat outside the wagon, refusing to come inside, opting to ignore whatever was going on between them Beth's fingers had set to exploring that ache she thought she'd left behind outside that ramshackle cabin. She had wanted to sooth that deep pull that made her want things she didn't quite understand but she had a feeling it had something to do with Daryl's lips on hers and his hands claiming every inch of her skin, especially the place that throbbed between her legs. Her fingers worked their way beneath the waistband of her pantaloons and she found that spot. She'd found it alright and she knew that she wanted Daryl there, between her legs where she throbbed. She wanted him filling that space that her fingers were such a poor substitute for. It was only as she had imagined Daryl hovering over her doing unspeakable things to her that she had finally been able to experience what all the secret novels Maggie always swooned over were talking about. A glorious release the likes of which she had never known. She found it odd that she experienced that the first time in the middle of nowhere with her own fingers instead of that of a lovers and it made her sad for some reason. She wanted Daryl to make her feel that way and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. He was so, so, so frustrating! She glanced toward the parting in the canopy wishing he would come in here and take her already. She knew he wanted it too. She had felt it a little when he'd been pressed against her kissing her like there was no tomorrow. She wanted him to do it again. But judging by his mood, there was no way he was coming within three feet of her again.

* * *

He couldn't believe he had done it. He had gone and done the most fool thing he could think of doing. Hell he figured kissing sweet and innocent Beth Greene was just about stupider than anything Merle Dixon had ever done. He had no business kissing her. Hell he had no business even talking to her and breathing the same damn air but here she was just on the other side of the wagon canopy. He heard the covers rustling from time to time and he had a thought once that she was making an awful lot of noise for someone who was supposed to be sleeping. He didn't let his thoughts go where he shouldn't. He couldn't afford to.

* * *

It had been three days since the kiss and Beth got up in the worst mood as ever. She was tired and feeling like she was walking on eggshells around him. He had been even more gruff than usual and she was growing tired of him generally growling every word.

By the end of that day they had neared another cabin well hidden in a copse of trees at the edge of a plain. The temperature had dropped drastically and Daryl worried that they were going to have to hole up somewhere if the snow hit earlier than expected. The wind grew more blustery and Daryl was pleasantly surprised as they rounded the last bunch of trees that there was a place to tie off the horses, a small but serviceable shack that he guessed at some served as a barn. The cabin looked much sturdier than the one they had been in a few days ago and he had to wonder at the inside of it as they looked around. Everything was in place and it looked like someone had expected to hole up there for the winter.

"Guess we best hole up here for the night and see if this storm is gonna hit or not." He didn't bother looking at her and that was just fine with Beth. She just nodded her head quickly and turned her eyes back to the road and held onto the back of the buckboard. The road was deeply rutted and she worried that they would get stuck but so far the horses just kept pulling them along. Still Beth bucked forward on a jolt and Daryl's arm was fast jerking out and across her body as if to prevent her from falling forward. It startled her and in looking at him, it seemed to startle him as well. He mumbled something under his breath as he turned his eyes back to the road as they approached the cabin and put his hand back down to his side, between them on the buckboard.

Good. She hoped he was uncomfortable. It would serve him right. Sometimes now at her lowest point, she thinks maybe their kiss had been imagined on her part and it had never happened. But then she sees the way he looks at her from across the room or how their eyes had met that morning across the fire and she knows she didn't imagine that it happened. She knows too she didn't imagine he wanted to do it again.

They got out and went to exploring, Daryl checking out the house ahead of her, ever protective even though he knew she could take care of herself. He had given her several hunting lessons in the past several days and he had no doubt that she could hold her own in a gunfight now. Still, he couldn't bring himself to be near her. He couldn't be held responsible for his actions if he were to come too close to her and she looked up at him with her trusting eyes, practically begging him to kiss her.

A sudden bolt of lightning crosses the sky, quickly followed by a clap of thunder. Daryl quickly tied off the horses in the small shelter provided, hoping for the best. The darkening clouds in the distance looked extremely ominous and they had entered the plains last week so he knew the potential for a life threatening storm was strong. He had heard tales of storms out this way picking up grown men and throwing them into the next township. Daryl Dixon wasn't afraid of nothing except maybe mother nature. Right now she looked right pissed to him with the wind howling in his ears. Beth was behind him fighting with her bonnet while he grabbed as many items as he could before reaching back to grab her wrist and pull her along. The clouds were drawing closer when he looked up and it was so dark now it looked like it was the middle of the night though he knew it wasn't quite close to dusk yet.

As they neared the cabin, he caught sight of a door in the ground. A cellar. He had heard about these. People in the west had them on their land for storms like these. They could hunker down underground and ride it out where the storm couldn't touch them and suck them up into the great beyond. He gave her wrist a tug and looked back at her. She looked a little scared but she was holding her own.

Beth had never been so scared in her life except when she was swirling down the river at the whim of the waves. This was similar to that situation. Daryl was trying to tell her something but the wind was screaming in her ears. "I can't hear you." She shouted and he shook his head and then looked forward and pointed. She saw what he was referring to: A storm cellar. She had read about it in a book once. She wanted to weep in relief since it could mean that they might not die tonight after all.

Daryl wrenched open the doors and let Beth climb inside. It was pitch black in there and Beth thought at the moment that she'd take whatever skittered and slithered in the night over the horror that wasd creeping up behind them. The storm was closing in fast and she hurried down the man-made steep steps as carefully and quickly possible until she reached the bottom. Daryl closed the doors and she could hear him climbing down after her but that was it. It was completely like night in the cellar. It smelled earthy but clean and as Beth's eyes adjusted she could make out shelves in the far corner that seemed to contain a variety of food items, carefully canned labelled. At least they would be able to eat good tonight.

Daryl fumbled in his pocket for matches and struck one, quickly glancing about for any permanent source of light. The flame burned out quickly with a draft coming in from the atrocious wind outside the storm cellar doors. He winced and shook the burned out match from his finger and quickly lit another once glancing back in the direction where his eyeshot had cut off to dark again. He spotted a lantern and extinguished the match and felt his way in the dark towards the old wooden table that held it. He could only pray that it had enough fuel to last long enough to get them settled. It appeared this would be where they were spending the night. He could just make out Beth's breathing in the dark behind him where she had drifted closer to him. He turned to face her as he got the small oil lamp lit. It cast a warm glow on her face and her eyes still held some of the wide fear that he had seen there since the storm began to approach.

Beth watched as Daryl lit the lamp for them. He stood back up and turned around, his eyes meeting hers. "Should be enough light." His voice was soft but hoarse. She heard the unspoken message, the one she sought when their eyes met; were they going to be okay. They'd have just enough light so it wouldn't seem to dark. That's what he meant but what she heard was they were safe. For now.

Beth put down the baggage she had retrieved from the wagon, sending up a silent prayer that the wagon and horses would be okay out there. The wind howled a bit more and it sounded like the earth was ready to suck them up from their hiding place and throw them out into the vast sky, black and dark and Beth could feel the fear coming back. Maybe it was because it felt so much like drowning, she wasn't sure but she couldn't stop the shaking if she tried.

Daryl watched her warily from the corner of his vision. She had found some blankets at the end of the small bed in the room and had started spreading them out, making a thicker pallet that she could snuggle into. There was a rocking chair in the corner and he figured he'd slept in worse. The light from the lantern was warm and in the light her hair shone as she took the bonnet off and her carefully pinned hair tumbled from all the places she had tried to tether it to that morning. He wondered why she did it. There was no one out here in the great wild west that cared about societal norms. He guessed it probably kept it out of her way but it sure seemed a lot of trouble and besides he found he liked it down. He had gotten to tangle his hands through it that morning. Soft and silky and he found himself wondering if she had liked kissing him.

He stopped arranging the items on the table long enough to watch her for a minute. Her shoulders were shaking slightly and he couldn't help but notice that she had smoothed her hand over the same spot on the same blanket for the past two minutes. He placed his rifle on the table and regarded for a minute. He wiped his hand down over his face and sighed, walking over to where she stood, shoulders hunched over like she held all the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Beth jumped at the slight touch on her shoulder. She turned and she knew he'd see. She didn't feel like he judged her for her weaker moments. He'd seen her at her worst and still he let her hang around. She couldn't quite explain the lost feeling she had right now. She was far from home and knew no one but this man to whom it seemed she had aligned her soul with and nothing made sense but everything did all at once.

"You ain't gotta be so strong all the time." The shine in her eyes gave way to tears as she let them fall freely. He held his arms out and she felt into them like she was made to fit there, her head tucked under his chin. Her arms moved around his waist and he felt the breath leave him, breath he figured he'd been holding in some way or another ever since she'd last been in his arms. When they'd kissed their way under each other's skin. That was what it felt like now.

He heard her voice, small. "You don't have to be afraid." She moved her head from its resting spot and looked up at him and he found it comforting that she had stopped shaking the moment she stepped into his embrace.

"Ain't afraid of nothin'." The words felt thick on his tongue. It was a damn lie and he knew it. So did she. The truth was shining back in her eyes. He _was_ afraid. He was scared shitless of what he felt for her. How she saw into all the cracks that he'd so carefully tried to seal up with his surly disposition and never letting anyone get too close. Until now. She'd worked her way up under his skin to the point he no longer felt comfortable with his regulars. Displaced anger and negativity didn't seem to be things he could abide anymore. Not since this little ray of sunshine had burst into his life. On the banks of a river, he'd found the one thing he never even thought he needed. Love. He knew it. That was the hell of it. He was completely 100% head over heels in love with Beth Greene and he was terrified she'd disappear, just like everyone else he had ever cared about. His mother, his brother. He wasn't sure his father counted except in the sense of abandonment.

"Kiss me." It wasn't so much as a request as a command and god himself could damn him to hell right now and it'd be alright with him. He'd happily go if he got to see that quiet look of determination in her eyes and that smile he knew he could no longer live without.

The storm raged outside and the depth of it seemed to emanate straight from his deep blue eyes as he bent his head to hers. His hands came up from her hips to tangle in her hair, his fingers lightly combing through them as he worked his way to the back of her head, fitting her head to his, tilting it just so, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of her lips.

He didn't think it was possible but she tasted better than the last time he'd kissed her. She opened her mouth willingly and he heard the tiny sigh that escaped her lips as he felt her breath warm as their kiss blended from one of certainty to a tentative, slow moving of their lips against each other, exploring, teasing.

He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and she moaned and he pulled her closer and he could feel her hips rock into his, like they were two magnets of polar opposites, drawn together like a gravitational force. He couldn't have torn himself from her in that moment if he wanted to. They may have kissed for minutes or it could have been hours but as the storm raged outside, he felt like he had finally at last come home.

* * *

They had stood arguing about it for at least five minutes, miss Beth Greene's foot stamping the dirt floor of the cellar as she waited him out. She told him they could sleep together in the chair or they could sleep together in the bed, but she was adamant that she was not sleeping alone. She'd claimed she was afraid and that might be partly true but he knew better. He'd finally shut her up with a kiss, finally pulling away looking at the doe-eyed surprised look on her face and muttering "fine." He hadn't known her long but he knew her enough to figure this was not one of those fights he'd soon lose. Not when she had that determined look in her eye. It had come damn close to the same look she'd had in her eyes when she'd made up her mind to follow her family out west and prove them wrong.

Now here he lay trying his best to fall asleep to no avail. She was curled up on her side, stretched out close enough he could feel her breath on his arm. He'd watched her sleep for the last ten minutes and every time she breathed in her chest heaving, hair spread out above her, he couldn't get the image of an angel out of his mind. She hadn't kissed like one though. His thumb came up to the corner of his mouth and he could still feel her lips on his. It had felt good. Losing himself in her. It hadn't taken his mind long to come to the conclusion of where this was going. And it scared him and made his pulse race all at the same time. They may catch fire and burn up together when it happened but he figured it might be one of those good kinds of burn. His last thought as sleep finally overtook him was that as chaotic as things sounded outside, down here in the crust of the earth with Beth, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxo


	8. "See ya soon"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

When Daryl awoke, he was keenly aware of two things, an urgent need to relieve his bladder and a pressing weight on his abdomen. That the two were intricately linked to one source was not his immediate thought, though it should have been for when he opened his eyes, he glanced down his body to find the source of discomfort and noted that one of Beth's pale slender legs was draped across his belly. She had thrown off all her covers some time in the night and her hair was in disarray all around her head. He had told her she was likely to wake up roasting if she went to sleep under the twelve blankets she insisted on but she had still been shivering a bit when she'd finally dropped off to sleep. It seemed she had thrown her covers off in a blind heat wave and somewhere along the line decided that his body was her resting place.

He nearly groaned aloud at the image that phrase created inside his head especially given the fact that she was indeed resting herself against him, dangerously close to his growing erection because of his stupid thoughts. Like he needed any help in that area. Kissing her last night and restraining himself in turn had been damn near impossible. He'd never been around anyone so honest. So beautiful. And she was. Inside and out. They had talked for a couple hours last night while they were waiting for the storm to calm down. He hadn't kissed her anymore, not while they were in the same bed. It didn't seem proper. Oh he'd thought about it. He had done nothing but think about pulling her into his arms and kissing her until they were both gasping for air.

He shifted slightly to see if he could extract himself from the confines of her leg without waking her up and she stirred beside him. He breathed a sigh of relief when she turned over to face the wall. Before getting up he allowed himself a moment to take in her lithe form, impossibly curvy in nothing but her chemise and pantaloons, all white and trimmed with lace making her look every bit the virgin he suspected she was. Thing was, her modest undergarments did nothing to hide the luscious body that he just knew lurked underneath. He could make out every curve and dip through the thin material. He could only stare as she moved again, her body curving forward rounding out her ass in the most perfect way and his fingers practically itched to reach out and run his hands down over the curve of her ass to her thigh.

And that just wasn't right. Daryl practically threw himself from the bed, knocking over his boots in the process which he grabbed on the upshot and he was up the cellar steps, unbolting the doors and throwing them open before he had a chance to think about what was going on inside his mind.

Beth startled awake to the sound of something falling and Daryl clomping up the steps of the cellar muttering something under his breath about being a dumbass. She was puzzled for a moment and then realized that she was not covered up leaving him to see her in a state of undress the likes of which her own mother hadn't seen in her in some time. She smiled to herself and stretched, wondering if he had liked what he saw. She thought she'd be surprised at the wanton thought but for some reason, since it was Daryl and her body seemed to have betrothed itself to him, it seemed right.

She wondered vaguely if the horses had fared well in the storm. She let her mind drift briefly to last night and all the kisses she had shared with Daryl. His lips on hers had felt right and she knew on kissing him again that she had not imagined anything she had felt the first time. She was just drawn to him in a way that she couldn't quite make sense of. Sure, there was the obvious physical attraction. He was handsome in a rugged way, but still there was something about him that made her want things she had never had. Things that occurred in the dark between a man and a woman. Things a girl like her should not want with a man she had met only recently. Yet, she shared this journey with this man. This wonderful man that was a lot different than he seemed.

She was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of Daryl clomping back down the steps. She barely had time to retrieve the covers and pull them over herself before he was in front of the bed. "I have bad news."

* * *

Beth looked out over the wasteland that lay just above the surface of the cellar. All traces of the shack and the cabin were gone. Strangely the hitching post for the horses was still there but the horses were long gone as was the wagon and everything they had in it. Beth wondered for a moment if the horses were okay and was instantly grateful that she and Daryl had been spared from the destruction that had happened over their heads. She walked in a circle around where they had left the wagon and back to where the storm cellar stood open.

Daryl watched her warily expecting the tears at any moment. She looked at him with a determined gaze that he was starting to think was her signature expression. "Well we're gonna need to find a new wagon. Next town is probably a good thirty miles. Or we could go back to the one we passed yesterday."

Smart. The girl was smart and he couldn't help but feel a flash of pride although he wasn't sure why. He had taught her to track and he'd helped her hone her shooting skills but the head smarts she surprised him with daily had him reeling. She did that all by herself.

He nodded. "Seems like that might be the best choice. Weren't much in that town, but it's better to go back to what's familiar."

Beth couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning in his words with the way he was looking at her but she quickly dismissed it. She went to make her way down the steps to retrieve their belongings. The sooner they set out on their journey the better. The town was a good 10 miles back the other way so they had a good hike on their hands and Beth's boots were not the best for walking on dry ground, let alone ground that was soggy and muddy.

She felt for the last stair to the cellar and overshot it, her foot coming down at an awkward angle and shooting a lightning bolt of pain all the way up to her hip. She cried out against it and stumbled to a sitting position on the floor of the cellar, clutching her ankle. Before she could even open her eyes Daryl was crouched down beside her.

"Let me see." His rough, warm fingers slid under her skirt and probed at the tender flesh over her ankle bone. She winced at the contact though her cheeks warmed at the feel of his callused hands on her skin.

Daryl studied her face as he felt along the bone for any obvious breaks. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found none, but that was quickly replaced by worry as a pained expression came across her face when he slid his fingers over the inner crease of her ankle and foot. "Let's get you restin' on the bed."

"No, I'm fine, Daryl. Really. I'll just stretch it out." She struggled to her feet, unable to help the small yelp that slipped from her lips. She felt his strong arms come around her middle, hoisting her up beside him. She looked up at him gratefully and slid her arm around his shoulder as he helped her sit on the side of the bed.

"Dammit." She swore softly and he looked up at her in surprise. Beth flushed. "Just when I have about half proved I ain't weak, somethin' like this happens." She dropped her head and resisted the urge to cry. If anything, she was angry.

She felt Daryl's finger slide under her chin and tilt her head up and her discouraged gaze met his.

Whatever tenable hold Daryl held in check slipped away as he gazed into Beth's eyes. She looked so defeated. He leaned in slowly and swept his lips across hers, once, twice, then a third time for good measure before pulling back. "Y'ain't weak. You're about the toughest girl I know." He rubbed his thumb softly over her jawline tracing an invisible line.

Beth was overcome with so many different emotions all at once that she wasn't sure which to settle with so she just pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and said nothing for a long moment while her pulse caught up to her breathing. Or maybe it was the other way around. She wasn't quite sure because the way Daryl was looking at her right now was disarming and not a little flustering.

"We'll let you rest your ankle and see if it feels better tomorrow. We can set out for that town tomorrow." She didn't take her eyes from him as he ran his hand over her hair, quietly weaving his fingers through the strands. Beth just nodded, afraid to speak lest she ruin the moment. She had a big mouth and Daryl seemed uneasy most times.

But right now, he was looking at her like he knew exactly what to do and what to say. He looked at her like he knew exactly what he wanted. And right now, it looked like he wanted her. She barely breathed as he closed the distance between them and her lips were already parted when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. He deepened the kiss as instinct had her moving closer to him and gripping the fabric of his chambray shirt in her fingertips, very much aware of how his breath hitched in his chest as she pressed as close to him as she could get. She was stricken by the thought that it probably was not a good idea for them to be kissing like this while they were alone in the middle of nowhere. On a bed. In a dark cellar. But that thought was immediately stricken by a deeper one, that she didn't care if it was proper. She didn't care at all. The liberty of that thought had her drawing ever closer to him and moving her lips against his with the same fervor he kissed her with. Gradually his stiffer posture gave way to fluidity and he seemed to melt into her the same way she did him.

Daryl couldn't pinpoint the moment when he lost all grip on reality and gave himself over to the Heaven that was kissing Beth Greene but he did. Like something in him broke or cut loose, he just let go. And let himself feel it. All of it. And it burned like a fire just like he thought. The good kind that warmed him from the inside out. Her hands were gripping his shirt like he was her lifeline and he thought that maybe she had it wrong. She was the one who was saving him. Saving him from the worst of himself. Saving him from this uncertain world they lived in. As the feeling on the inside of him roiled up to the surface, they spilled over into actions. Like the running his hand from her hair down the smooth column of her neck and he dragged his lips from hers and moved them to the soft flesh there, spreading slow soft kisses. She tipped her head to the side, giving him better access and he didn't miss the soft sigh that escaped her lips and it spurred him on to suckle lightly.

He was absolutely helpless to the small sighs that gradually gave way to breathy moans that drove up his passion even further. She strained against him and without even knowing how he knew she needed it, he dragged his mouth from her neck back up to her hungry waiting lips and it was like they were both on fire now, and he barely bit back a groan at the feeling of her raking her fingernails over his abdomen where she had somehow managed to ruck the hem of his shirt up. She was quick and her fingers were quicker as they worked at the buttons on his shirtfront. He held his breath as she eased the shirt from his shoulders and he was instantly aware of how her eyes came to rest on his bare chest. He wanted her something fierce in that moment and he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Saw the innocence there. Saw all the vulnerability. And he loved that she was letting him see it and hated it at the same time. Her eyes asked him if this was okay and it was. This time it was Beth who initiated the kiss as her fingers trailed over his lower abdomen.

The instant her fingers rested on his belt and he heard the clank of the metal of the belt, something clicked in place in his mind and someone else took over as he reached down and gripped her wrists tightly in his. He pulled his lips from hers and looked at her, her eyes wide, pupils blown, and he was almost lost again but she saw. She saw what he needed her to.

Beth saw the raw need in his eyes once she made sense of him stopping their morning kissing session. He wanted her but he wasn't ready for this yet. To be honest neither was she. She had been carried away by the moment just as he had. But they weren't ready for all of this.

She straightened up and moved her fingers to her hair, brushing the strands back behind her back and out of her way, wishing for her bag that held her hair pins only to realize that she had lost it in the storm. They were lucky they had not lost more. She should count her lucky stars that the worst thing she had to worry about was the fact that she could not pin her hair up until further notice. By the time she met Daryl's eyes he had redone his buttons on his shirt though he had not moved from her side so she counted that as something in her favor.

"I guess we should talk about this before it gets out of hand." Beth must have looked crestfallen because he was quick to add. "Not that I don't want _that_." His last word was enunciated as a flush of red crept up on his cheeks and it just endeared him to her further. She smiled at him softly and he seemed to breathe a little easier.

"It's okay Daryl. I'm not ready for _that_ either." She used the same emphasis he did and reached for his hand, their fingers sliding together perfectly.

He looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

Beth's smile widened a bit. "Well yeah, I got carried away. You make me-." She flushed before finishing. "You make me want things."

Daryl couldn't help the low chuckle in the back of his throat as he squeezed her fingers slightly. "Me, too, Beth. Me too."

After that it seemed a little easier between them. They worked out a way to make it work in the cellar until the next morning. The first hiccup came when she needed to relieve herself. She protested but he had insisted on carrying her out of the cellar on his back. They had broken open a couple of the jars of food, some cooked tomatoes and beans and had a hearty brunch washed down with the water Daryl had fetched from the spring pump which had also predictably withstood the storm.

They took turns telling stories from their pasts and Daryl regaled her with tales of his brother. "He sounds like quite the character."

Daryl chuckled. "Ya might say that." He agreed quietly.

"My brother Shawn would like you." Beth said quietly from beside him. It was nearing nightfall now.

He looked at her in surprise. "Mmm. I ain't sure about that." All he could think was maybe her brother's fists connecting with his nose after he found out he had his dirty Dixon hands on his baby sister.

"Don't sell yourself short Daryl Dixon." She said, her words sure. "From where I sit, you're a good man."

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. He didn't know if he believed that or not, but he leaned over and kissed her nonetheless if for no other reason than he just couldn't help himself and she was so damn amazing.

* * *

He had finally gotten her to settle down and he found himself wishing on every star out there hoping she was going to be able to bear weight on that ankle enough in the morning so they could at least get a new wagon. He found himself bargaining. That if they couldn't get a new wagon and horses then if he could just get her someplace more secure until her ankle did heal. The weather was not looking to improve. The day had gotten colder and he suspected that Beth wouldn't be shivering on their second night in the shelter, not if he could help it. He'd added two more blankets, all they had actually, on top of her and he'd settled in beside her hoping to catch a couple winks. However his mind wouldn't shut off and he ended up letting it wander to places he shouldn't. Places where his hands had free reign over Beth's arms, shoulders, hips, thighs, and his mouth sought out places on her that his lips had yet to claim. It was a long time before he finally was able to fall asleep.

* * *

As it turned out, Beth's ankle was not in much better shape than the day before. She could make it up the shelter steps alone but she was still severely hampered by her inability to bear weight on it, at least without crying out in pain.

Daryl worried his thumb between his teeth, unsure if the decision they had made was the right one. It was dawn of the third day and he had no choice but to head for the nearest town on his own and hopefully come back with a new wagon and horses to boot, not to mention some food since their meager supply was dwindling. Beth had tried getting him to take some of the squirrel meat that he'd caught for them the day before, but he had reasoned he could always hunt more game and she should keep it. She had nodded quietly.

Now that they were faced with him leaving, neither knew what to say to the other. It wasn't that it was that far, it was that it was very uncertain out there. Danger lurked around every corner, if not from the natives then from the bandits that swept through from time to time taking what they saw fit. Daryl shivered as he thought of what some unsavory men might do to a girl like Beth. He reached behind him and unstrapped his knife from his side and handled her it along with the pistol he'd made sure she knew how to use the day before.

"Shoot first, ask questions later." He said, his tone low as he looked into her eyes. She didn't have to guess what he meant.

Beth nodded. "I can take care of myself Daryl." There was no bite in her tone though. She was just determined.

He smirked at her faintly. "I don't doubt it."

There was nothing left to do but say good-bye and yet neither moved much from their spots in front of one another, unless you counted moving closer together, his hands coming to her hips and hers coming to rest against his chest as she gazed up at him.

"I don't like good-byes." Beth's eyes were a deeper more intense blue as she looked at him.

"Me either." She tucked herself against him and he moved one of his hands from her hip to the back of her head, his fingers tangling into the blonde tresses.

She looked up at him and he didn't waste any time in dipping his head to hers, their lips meeting in the softest, sweetest kiss, almost like it was the first time.

Daryl rested his forehead against hers briefly and then grabbed his rifle off the table. He leaned forward and quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't go out unless you gotta. Stay safe."

"I will." Beth watched as he placed his hat back on his head and moved up the steps of the cellar. She hugged her arms around herself as she called out. "Daryl."

Just before he disappeared from her sight into the still dark morning, he turned. "Yeah?"

"I'll see ya soon." She smiled brightly at him and he smiled back. A real honest to God smile.

"See ya soon, Beth." His voice somehow implied intimacy that they had not yet shared. That was what she was left with after he was gone. A sense that he had somehow promised her something in those four words. Beth knew one thing, she couldn't wait to find out what that promise held.

* * *

It had been two days and Beth was beside herself with worry. He'd said not to worry until it dark of the second night and it was now nearing mid morning of the third. She never went out if she didn't have to but it was getting to the point that she was not just worried for her safety. She was worried for her survival. She was down to one last jar of tomatoes and a jar of peaches that was only half full since she had dipped into them last night for supper. Her mouth watered now as her stomach rumbled, but she needed to conserve some just in case she needed them for the road. Just in case-. She didn't let her mind go that far but it stepped past that invisible line before she could stop it. Just in case he didn't come back.

For whatever reason. Mostly she worried about the natives. In her weakest moment, she worried it was because he had decided to desert her after all. That she really was too weak and she would just slow him down and be a burden.

But every time those thoughts crept in she just sang. Because it wasn't true and she knew it. The way he'd looked at her when he left; that was what she held onto. The look in his eyes, the slide of his hand on her skin, the way he kissed her, and most of all the things he had told her and she had told him. Every spoken  and unspoken word between them.

She was singing the third bar of Amazing Grace when she heard the sound on the steps and her heart nearly lept in her chest and she felt all fluttery all the sudden. "Daryl!" Her voice rang out.

But it wasn't Daryl's voice that answered her back. As the figure came into full view, Beth shrank back in fear. "Well, look at what we have here Len. What's a pretty little thing like you doin' out here all by your lonesome?"

He glanced over his shoulder at his buddy who was fairly leering at her, greasy hair hanging in his face and Beth tasted the bitter tang of fear in her mouth or maybe it was the bile rising from the sickening hunger she saw in the other man's eyes. Her response then was one she was just becoming familiar with. Hatred. She focused her steely gaze on the grey haired man in front of her. "I am not _alone_. My partner will be back shortly."

For whatever reason, this man found it hilarious what she had said. "Partner huh? You from the local rodeo darlin'?" His friend guffawed at his stupid joke and Beth felt for the knife at her side, wishing she had the pistol but she'd left it across the room on the rocker. She focused all her attention on not drawing her eyes that direction. If she could somehow get to it, she might make it out of this alive.

"I ain't your _darlin'_." Beth could practically feel the venom on her tongue as she lashed the words at them.

"Whoo-whee, Len, this one is a firecracker. Now don't worry _darlin'_." He emphasized that last word just for her. "This ain't gonna hurt. _Us_." He cracked up at his last word. "After all, why hurt yourself, when you can hurt other people."

Beth tasted the bile in her throat as his hands reached for her and she forced herself to keep her eyes open and not pass out. She had to be on high alert if she was going to make it out of this, but she swore she had never been so afraid in her entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxo


	9. She was breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

As Daryl walked the rest of the way into town, finally after much longer than he thought it would take him, he still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he had. Like someone had been watching him. Something was wrong, his heckles had been up for the better part of a day. As he neared the town the feeling dulled a bit and he chalked it up to his journey here.

The first few miles had been okay, a little rocky due to the terrain being so muddy from the storm plus every path he came across was filled with debris from the storm that had passed through. He found himself subconsciously looking for the horses and wagon, like he'd magically find them tied to a tree along his way. He shook his head at his stupidity. Even if she was a nice distraction, Beth certainly had his head in the clouds most of the time. He smiled to himself remembering the way she had kissed him before he left. Yeah, she was a distraction all right.

Like when he'd ignored all the signs about the terrain getting worse a mile up the road. There had been downed trees everywhere and he knew he was headed in the direction of the bridge they had crossed. It had barely looked passable when they'd driven the wagon over it and he should have guessed it would have not survived the storm. Sure enough, as he neared the bend and heard the rushing water, it was apparent that the bridge had been taken down in the storm and the hills were rocky on either side of the now rushing river. There was no way he'd be able to traverse the rocky climb without plummeting into the deathly waters. He wasn't afraid of the cold; just maybe suffering the same or a worse fate than Beth when she'd fallen into the river herself right before he had found her. He'd lost half a day going back the way he had come and had to camp out for the night. He barely waited for daylight and now here he was after finally finding another route. He was almost in the town now and by the position of the sun in the sky the merchants wouldn't have closed up for the day. Maybe there was something to be had from this hell mission after all, he thought.

He eyed the town as he walked down the center of it, passing the sign on the way in, Pine Lake but he could just make out another name, something with the name Creek in it. He was curious why a town would change its name but continued on his path.

It was not much in the way western towns went. A couple of hastily erected structures that now served as the town's doctor's office and post office. The nicer and newer building was the general store with the attached saloon, _that_ was the town's money maker.

The streets were the standard dirt and since the rains had moved through that had turned to a mucky mire that Daryl stuck in with each step. He finally reached the door to the general store and paused at the supplied boot scraper and did what he could to remove the mud that had quickly gathered, creating an almost blanket effect over his boots. He opened the door and walked through, feeling very out of place although no one paid him any mind.

He walked over to the counter, eyeing some of the merchandise he passed and ticking off the items in his head that Beth had given him on the list she had scrawled out from an old ink well and fine linen paper. He had read over her small list in her tiny handwriting: flour, dried beef, clean bandages (just in case), coffee. He didn't know what it was about her written note tucked away in the pocket of his shirt that made his heart beat a little faster, as if her words somehow meant something that they couldn't. He knew what it was. Something that in another life maybe he could have. Could have it if he wasn't a Dixon. A wife waiting at back at their homestead and he was going into town to fetch supplies. He'd come home to a home cooked meal and her waiting arms and lips.

He brought his head up sharp as the voice behind the counter changed octave. "I said can I help ya young man?" The older man, grey hair that was balding on top of his head had a kind face and Daryl flushed at the realization that he had left this man asking if he needed assistance while he had his head in the clouds about Beth yet again. He ran a hand over the back of his neck.

"Sorry, sir. Yes, I was wonderin' if you knew where I might find a horse and buggy. My c-" He corrected himself at the last minute. "My wife, Beth, lost ours last night in the storm and we're needing to head west to meet her family." He didn't know why the man's scrutiny was bothering him but it was almost like he could smell the lie on him but he instead the man just extended his hand towards him, a look of barely contained mirth in his eyes.

"My name is Dale Horvath." The man's accent was proper and he was betting that he came from one of those Yankee places up north. Nonetheless, Daryl took the hand he offered and shook it. The man's grip was firm and he was curious about he seemed to size him up while setting him at ease all the same time.

"Daryl Dixon." He cleared his throat and shifted his weight to his other leg. As much as they'd walked in the past several weeks, he couldn't figure why they ached so now, but he was guessing it had to do with the muddy terrain on the way into town.

"Well Mr. Dixon, I'm afraid I can't help ya there. There is a lumber yard about half a mile away and that's the main commerce in this area. We get business from Independence and they send people our way from time to time. It's a mutual agreement." Daryl figured he meant Independence back in Missouri territory. He knew it was main stopping point along the trail getting out west. A lot of people stopped and carved their names in the side of the enormous flat rocks. He only knew about it because Beth had gone on and on about it, stating that her brother had told her all about when he'd passed through with the Army they'd all stopped and carved their initials in it.

He was a dick, he knew for refusing to stop as they passed right on through. But that had been when he'd not been speaking to her and he'd thought they'd be good on supplies for a good long while. Oh how the mighty have fallen, he thought. It was something his mama used to say, God rest her soul.

Daryl's heart fell at the man's words and all at once all he wanted was to get back to Beth and tell her that this mission was a bust. He turned to leave and the man's voice stopped him. "Wait. You say you and your missus need a wagon and honest to God, it ain't a good idea mister to keep going west with the snow coming. It's only a matter of days. You could both die out there."

He turned to face the man and wondered at the kindness of a stranger. The man held up his hand as if to suggest Daryl needed to hear him out. "I think we might be able to work something out is all. My wife Irma has fallen ill and can't get around as good as she used to. She runs the hotel next door." Daryl nodded. He was failing to see how this had anything to do with him and Beth.

"If your wife could cook the meals, you could work in the lumber yard. You could keep the scraps and what not for building your own wagon. For a fair wage mind you. And we'd provide room and board of course. Just you and the missus right?"

Daryl flushed at the man's words. He didn't know what to do. He wished Beth was with him. She'd know just what to say. Just what to do in this situation. The older man seemed wise even far beyond his years and he seemed genuine. Before he met Beth, he had never thought good existed in men anymore but she'd changed his mind about that. She was the purest good and the kindest person he'd ever met. Being with Beth now (if that's what he could call it) It made him think that maybe he'd been hanging around in the wrong corners of the world before.

"Yes, it's just the two of us. She hurt her foot back at our camp and I came here hoping to find what we needed to continue our journey." Daryl looked down at the floor.

"Hurt!" The man's voice rose an octave in his concern. Suddenly the gentleman was coming around the counter and practically dragging him out the back door of the store. "You should have said something."

"It's okay. Mister, she's okay. Just a hurt foot." Daryl hated to belittle her injury like that but he knew Beth wouldn't want no fuss made over her.

The man turned in his tracks and what he said next chilled Daryl down to his very marrow, like the ice cold finger of death had trailed its sharp claws down the center of his back and he was suddenly so very cold.

"Sometimes I forget not everyone I talk to doesn't know things that happen around here. There's been a band of men that have been circling this area. We don't have a constable as of yet, just the local men. They haven't been able to find 'em but they've robbed some people." His eyes cast down and his voice dropped as they reached the man's intended destination. His horses. He took the rope to one of the horses and handed it to Daryl. "Go and get your wife mister. She's not safe out there. They've hurt some women."

Daryl nodded at the man and took the reins from him. "Get her and bring her back here. We can work out everything else later. God speed."

It was an odd thing Daryl riding away on the back of a stranger's horse. He didn't know him from anyone and for all he knew Daryl was there to steal his horses. Because not only did he have his Appaloosa but he also had a beautiful palomino. He guided the horses back through town never even stopping once to think about what they would do after. The man's voice echoed in his ears. "They've hurt some women." That was not fucking okay. He had to get to Beth. _Now_.

* * *

It was as if his words bounced off the glass inside of her head and everything focused in on one thing. "Why hurt ourselves, when we can hurt other people?" It sickened her and angered her even more so that he had that kind of outlook on life. She fingered the knife at her side.

"What you got there sweet thing?" The older man came closer to where she sat on the bed and she turned her head to the side as he slid his hand on the bed. She could feel his breath hot on her neck and Beth fought the urge to throw up.

Her response was feral. "I am not your sweet thing." Beth put as much fire behind her words as she could.

The man grabbed the knife from her. "What's she got Joe?"

Beth didn't want to meet the other man's eyes. Len. She didn't want to but she knew she needed to show no fear. She knew as soon as they caught a whiff of how afraid she was, they'd be on her like a wolf on its prey. The weak didn't survive this world. Briefly, absurdly, the image of that wooden crossed her family had staked into the ground in her honor, flashed through her mind. Maybe it was stupid but she bolted to her feet and shoved the older man to the ground and he landed with a grunt on his back. She only got about 10 feet away from him before the other man was on her, pinning her to the ground from behind. His weight was nearly crushing. It wasn't that he was a big man but he was pressing himself into her backside and she could feel his hands on the hem of her skirts that had been rucked up in her fall, now climbing past her knee. She was certain she would throw up any moment.

"Len you dumb shit, help me up." Joe's voice thundered from directly behind them and Beth strained to move her head to face her other opponent.

The weight was instantly lifted from her as Len rolled off and went to assist his partner in getting back up. She barely had time to push herself up and get to the stairs before Len was on her again, grabbing her wrists and wrenching her arms behind her, pinning her against the wall closest to the steps this time. The chair wasn't far away. If she could just reach the gun. "Where you think you're going little miss?" His breath was hot and fetid on her cheek and she could practically taste the stench of whiskey on his breath. Daryl. Where was he? She barely choked back a sob and she fought with everything in her to remain strong.

"My husband will be back any minute now." Beth was proud at how calm her voice sounded and prayed that they could not hear the lie that rolled off her tongue so easily.

"Oh so it's a husband now. That's gotta be a damn lie right there." Joe guffawed as he patted the bed beside him. "Come sit here."

Beth shook her head. No way was she going anywhere near him.

He clucked his teeth and all Beth really wanted to do was knock them out of his mouth onto the dirt floor of this cellar. He leered at her as Len spun her around and herded her in Joe's direction. "He wasn't askin'." She was shepherded to Joe's side and shoved rather unceremoniously beside him on the bed. Joe took a rag out of his pocket and spit onto it and reached for her face. She fought to control her breathing as he took her chin roughly into his hand, his thumb almost bruising with the pressure. "You got some dirt on your face there sweet thing." Beth cringed as the man actually made to clean her face off with his own disgusting saliva.

She wrenched her face away from him. "Oh yeah, Len, you might have to share this one with Eddie."

The younger man actually whimpered and Beth wondered, not for the first time, if the man had drank what little bit of his brain cells away. "I don't want to share her. I claimed this whole place Joe and now you know them's the rules." The man was actually whining now and it was like a screeching in her ear.

Joe ignored Len's complaint and looked at Beth. "What's your name?"

"Beth." That at least wasn't a lie. She figured if she could stick close to the truth maybe it woudn't be so bad slipping in a lie every now and again. First and foremost she knew she had to get them out of this cellar. If they managed to keep her here she shuddered to think what they might do to her. If anyone might never find her. More than anything, the thought that came to her was that they'd be right. Her whole family would be right in assuming she couldn't survive.

A sudden idea sprang to her mind. "You know, things would me much more comfortable in the house." She looked at the obvious leader of the two intruders sideways, adding in a bat of her eyelashes for good measure.

"Is that right? Well then why ain't you in it?"

Beth's mind scrambled for purchase against his question. "I came down here for supplies and got caught up with the time." The lie sounded so easy coming off her tongue that way. She hastily added. "You probably didn't see it. It's behind the tree line." She was praying that they didn't see through her lie. There was no cabin and even if there had been one close by it was likely gone now with the storm having passed through.

He seemed to regard her for a long minute and looked around the room then back at her, crudely reaching out and clapping her on the thigh. "Well let's go then."

"Can I grab my coat? It's gotten chilly out there." Beth looked at the man, blinking at him demurely.

"Sure, sweet thing." He waited by the cellar steps with Len who was obviously still pouting that he would have to share her. She tried not to think too hard at the reality of the situation. It wasn't a secret what these men intended to do with her. Or what they would try to do, she thought as she grabbed the gun along with her coat off the chair. She tucked it into the pocket of her coat and quickly donned it, hoping they didn't notice her stiff movements.

She turned back to face them and they seemed to be waiting for something. "Oh ladies first little miss." Len leered at her as she walked ahead of him, trying not to let on that her ankle was aching something awful. She just had to lure them away and then she'd think of something. She had only one word on her mind. Survive.

They climbed out into the early evening air. It was cold and Beth could sense a shift in the air, like something was coming. She wondered briefly if it was just the weight of the situation she was in that was making her feel like that. Her fingers brushed in her pocket against the cool metal of the gun.

"What's that?" Joe's voice from behind her made her jump slightly and she glanced back to see where he was pointing. For a sickening minute, she thought he'd seen the gun in her pocket or guessed that she had it.

There beyond the bushes she could make out the remnants of where they'd tied off the horses a few nights ago. Beth shuddered to think that it could have been them that had been sucked up into the night. She shrugged her shoulders at the man's question.

"He asked you a question." She was pinned against the tree before she even knew what hit her. The younger man's hands were on her hips now, pressing and she was sure she'd have bruises later. His mouth was on her neck and she felt a rising tide of rage build up in her the likes of which she had never felt. Before she knew what was happening, the gun had gone off in her pocket and Len cried out in her ear and she looked down and there was blood. So much blood. And it was bubbling up out of his mouth, over his chin and dripping onto her coat and she brought her hand up out of her pocket and didn't think. Just did. She reset the gun and fired it in the direction of Len's companion.

She hit his arm and he bit out a curse. "You bitch! I'll make you pay for that."

Beth spun to leave and felt a searing pain at the side of her head as he gripped a handful of her hair to gain purchase and she fell into him, the gun clattering to the forest floor. She tried to pay attention to where it went but right now the most pressing thing was the fact that Joe was right on her, with her own knife pressed to her throat. "You shot me you bitch." He pulled her head around by the strands he had wound his fingers tightly into. "Look at poor Len!" His voice broke on a sob. "He's dying! You killed him!"

Beth couldn't help her shaking. Couldn't help anything except that she just had to survive. She reached behind her for anything as she and Joe hit the ground. She knew in the moment she felt the cold steel in her hand that God above must be watching out for her. She didn't hesitate, just brought the pistol up between his eyes and squeezed the trigger, the full weight of him slumping against her.

She shoved him off with what little bit of adrenaline she had left and then her arms turned to jelly. There she sat her arms wrapped around her legs and all the sudden the ringing in her ears got to be too much to bear. It was so loud and it just might be easier to go to sleep. So much red. So much blood. It was everywhere. Joe's sightless eyes stared back at her and Len was still gurgling where she'd left him by the tree. It might have been minutes and it might have been hours but she heard it. " _Beth_." Faintly as if far away even though she could feel his hands. It was Daryl. He was home. And that's when she fell apart. The trembling started and now that it had she didn't know if she would ever be able to stop.

* * *

He'd heard the first shot and dread coursed through him, that icy finger of fear running its claws down his spine again. _Beth_. Without figuring how he knew it, he just knew that she was in trouble. He dug his heels into the sides of the appaloosa and wisely let go of the other horses reins so as not to spook it. If it got lost so be it. He had to get to her.

When he approached the area, he could tell there had been a scuffle near the cellar and with the doors were flung open he sensed that she was not below. He didn't want to call out and risk giving his position away just in case the bandits were still in the area. If they'd harmed one hair on her head. He didn't finish the thought as he heard a gurgling sound about the same time that he smelled the gunpowder and the coppery scent of fresh blood.

He followed it around careful to step around fallen branches. As he stepped into the clearing, the sight nearly doubled him over and he knew his heart stopped and his breathing ceased as he saw Beth, his angel, sitting in the midst of all that red. So much blood, but he could see her shoulders shaking. She had done this. He was filled with a sense of pride at the same time that a sickening feeling of dread nearly knocked him on his ass. If they'd touched her. If they'd-. He couldn't allow himself to think it. He approached her as he would a wounded animal and it broke his heart that he had to.

"Beth." His voice was soft as he knelt down behind her and touched her shoulder.

She turned to look at him and there was very little of the ray of sunshine he had left behind. Shining back in her eyes was anguish, fear, and something else he couldn't name but it didn't matter what it was in that moment. She was covered with blood and she resembled every bit a wounded animal than the woman he'd left in the cellar yesterday. Still her eyes drank in the sight of him as if she was afraid he'd disappear any minute. She went into his arms as easily as he offered them.

"Shh, girl, I ain't goin' nowhere. I'm here." She sobbed against his chest, her fingers clutching his shirt, her face buried, shoulders shaking and he wanted nothing more than to take her up out of the place where the evil of the world had dared to touch her, but she needed this more right now.

There on the floor of that forest, he held her in his arms unsure if things would ever be the same again but fiercely glad she was alive. Daryl Dixon had never been much of a believer in a higher power. But he was thanking whoever was up there that Dale Horvath had been put in his path and he'd come back here. Not that she'd needed him. Not when it really counted. No she'd taken care of that all by herself. And he was so damn proud but the after. He didn't know how long she sat there shaking and crying, alone. Sitting in a pool of two men's blood and that's what broke his heart the most. That she needed him. And he wasn't fucking there.

He fought for control over the swirl of emotions going through him. But in that moment all that mattered was that she was breathing. She was breathing in his arms and that was enough. No, _it was everything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxo


	10. Just a story we gotta tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> still nothing

"Beth, listen to me." Daryl's voice was insistent and compelled her to open her eyes and his own eyes had gone dark, angry but even in her bleak haze, she recognized that he was not angry at her. The men. The men. It all came rushing back at her and she saw red. Blood. So much blood and she looked down at her hands hanging limply at her sides. He was gripping her shoulders and she clenched her eyes shut again.

"Dammit Beth, look at me!" He shouted at her and she realized that she was breathing very rapidly and she opened her eyes at his command and his gaze drew her in, locked her there. She couldn't look away if she tried.

"That's right." His voice softened several degrees and Beth felt warmer somehow. "I just want you to nod for yes. That's all. Nod if you understand me." She did as he asked and the suffocating tightness in her chest seemed to ease just a bit. She took a deep breath and nodded more assuredly at him, her eyes never leaving his.

"Are you hurt?" Beth tried to process his words and her heart ached. She was hurt. Not physically but inside her head. In her heart where things tore at her and ripped. Hands groping. Heated breath. Dark whispered promises, of torture, of things she could not bear to think let alone utter aloud.

But she found her voice finally and though it was hoarse she managed one word. "No."

She saw Daryl release a breath and his eyes flashed with something that looked like gratitude. "Good. One more question and then we're getting out of here. Think ya can manage ridin' horseback back to town?" He gestured back to the direction he had tied off his horse. He didn't know where the other horse had gotten to but he imagined not too far and if he guessed right, it would probably beat them back to the town and its owner.

Beth nodded and Daryl was itching to ask her one more question but it weren't proper for him to be asking her such things, no matter if he had kissed her before or not. He burned with ire thinking about someone hurting Beth in that way and he didn't think he could bear it if they had. He'd find a way to ask her, but now was not the time. He stood and helped Beth to her feet and barely resisted the urge to pull her back into his arms. Safety first. They needed to get back to town and away from the area where the bandits lurked. He figured there could have been more than two of them since men like that seemed to travel in packs, like wolves seeking to devour and corner their prey, depending on its weakness. There was only one problem. Beth was not something to be preyed upon. As he cast a final look on the bloody bodies lying on the ground, he thought Beth was a wolf in her own right. She had defended herself with the skill and accuracy and he couldn't be more proud of her in that moment and it was that moment when he was glancing back and reaching for her to help her up on the horse that he was overcome by it suddenly and drew her into his arms for a brief moment, just so glad she was okay. Still with him.

"You did good, Beth." He whispered before pressing his lips to the side of her head. "My brave girl."

 _My brave girl_ , echoed in her head. No one had ever called her that before. And the implication that she was his did nothing to slow her heart rate but she realized that it was all in a different way. He thought she was brave. Her family had never thought her brave or strong or any other words that suggested she could make it. That she could survive. But Daryl had. He believed in her. The pride shone in his eyes and she could hear it in his voice. Beth realized in a whir of emotion, fear, relief, pride that she loved him. She was impossibly, undeniably and irrevocably in love with Daryl Dixon and there was not a damn thing she could do to change it.

* * *

He took a rag out of his back pocket and wiped the blood from her face before assisting her onto the back of the horse. She arranged her skirts as modestly as she could and he hoisted himself behind her as they made the quick trip into town Daryl intending to go back the same way he had come. He didn't mind at all the way Beth's small form fit against him as he reached around her on either side for the reins and the horse took off at a slow canter. At first, Beth was tense and he could feel her holding herself rigid in front of him. She was still trembling slightly.

"It won't take long to get there." His voice was low in her ear and for some reason that warmth spread over her again and she fully exhaled and it didn't hurt so much to breathe anymore and eased her back against Daryl and it felt, well, nice.

She was quiet the rest of the way to town, eerily so. He didn't realize how used to her constant chatter he had gotten until he'd been on his way to town. He'd been looking forward to coming back and telling her all about the town and what their plan was going to have to be, them staying in Pine Lake for a while. All that had gone out the window when he had come back to find her kneeling in a pool of two men's blood. Men she had killed. Though he was proud of her, his heart ached that she had to witness the harsh reality of their world and that she'd had to do it alone. She wasn't alone now, he resolved. And she wouldn't be again, not if he had anything to say about it. He didn't know what they were just yet but he was beginning to get an inkling that the day he'd found the pretty little miss in his arms lying all bedraggled on the river bank was the day his life would be forever changed. Daryl Dixon was a creature of habit and he was used to things being a certain way. But he figured Beth Greene was the kind of woman a man changed his life for and never looked back. Beth Greene was the kind of woman that made a man _want_ to change and he knew without a doubt that he was forever changed by her.

No he wasn't sure what they were just yet but he was sure of one thing; he was ready to find out.

* * *

Beth waited for Daryl to tie off the horse, her arms wrapped around her middle and she hoped she would have access to some water and a cloth. She wanted nothing more than to scrub her body of any trace of blood and then she wanted to sleep for an interminable amount of time. She was tired in a way that she hadn't ever been, not even when she'd hit her head on the rocks in the river. Not even when she'd realized her family had left her behind without a second thought that she might have been able to survive.

Survival. That was what kept her going now as Daryl came to her side and placed his hand on her upper arm, gently, reassuringly and she marveled at the man before her. This Daryl was a far cry from the one she had gotten to know in the early days. Had it really only been a few weeks ago that they had met?

"You alright?" His brow was crinkled in concern and his eyes burned into hers.

She nodded her head, unable to speak. It just seemed like too much of an effort.

He turned her to face him. He needed to tell her what he had told Mr. Horvath about the two of them. That they were married. It was only proper anyhow but why did it make his neck feel like it was on fire and give him that itchy feeling that he just couldn't put a finger to. "I had to tell 'em we were married." That was the best way to do it, right? No fuss. Just come right out with it. He expected her eyes to go wide with his admission but she only nodded.

"It'll be okay, it's only overnight right?" She fully expected they would be on the road by tomorrow. She didn't know how Daryl had come to find a horse and why they'd gone ahead and retrieved their things from the cellar. She hadn't been able to go down there, the memory of groping hands and fetid breath too fresh. She'd stood above, praying with all her might that he'd be quick about it and he had.

She stared as he shook his head. "Afraid not. He tilted his head backwards to the west. Snow's comin' sooner than we thought and there ain't any wagons anyway. The man that owns this place said we could stay for the winter. Got us a room and I got a job at the lumber yard. Said I could keep the scraps to build us a wagon so we can leave come first sign of spring." He didn't tell her the rest of it. That they'd be sharing a room. Since they were lying about being married, that carried a whole lot of shit with it. Shit he was not willing to think about just yet. But he needed Beth to understand that he didn't expect anything from her. That just because they were lying about being married didn't mean he thought of them thus and all that went with it.

"It's just a story we gotta tell for now." It felt wrong somehow sliding off his tongue that way, like what they were didn't mean anything and it was nothing more than a bedtime story. His neck fired up in a blaze again and he struggled to find words. "Err. I mean. It don't gotta be a story. Fuck!" The expletive hung between them and then he felt even more of a bastard. "'M sorry." His hand went to the back of his neck and he looked to her. She always seemed to know what to say and he was praying she did this time too because he was shit at this kind of stuff. Feelings and how to tell a girl how he felt and how not to put his damn foot in his damn mouth. Hopeless was what he was.

Though she was tired and beaten down and things were a bit hazy, she'd have to be blind and stupid to see that Daryl was struggling with coming to terms with something in his mind and she'd also have to be stupid not to know it was about her. Beth reached up and put her hand to the side of his face for a moment. "It's okay Daryl. We'll figure it out. But tomorrow okay. I'm just really tired." She smiled softly at him as his face visibly relaxed and it was as if she could see the weight slip from his shoulders a bit.

He nodded at her, stunned for a moment that she was so gentle with him, so concerned about him after what she'd just been through. She was one hell of a strong woman and he just thanked god that she was here beside him and that he hadn't gone back to find a different scene. He shook his head to clear the image. The what if scenarios were not going to help him one bit right now.

He held his arm out in a crook and she looked up at him for a moment and he didn't meet her gaze this time, stared ahead with a slight twitch in his jaw and she couldn't' be sure but she thought he might be holding his breath, as if he expected her to reject his offer of chivalry. She only hesitated a moment for a moment before slipping her hand into position gripping his arm gently, hoping the gesture sent the message she desired: that she appreciated him being a gentleman. And not just for escorting her inside like a cherished wife. For wanting to defend and protect her honor and preserve the propriety between them. She didn't care one whit about what was proper and what wasn't anymore, even if society did, but she loved that Daryl cared about it and it meant the world to her that he was trying to defend what people would think of her being with him. If they professed to be married, they would have to accept it, wouldn't they?

She didn't have time to ponder that thought when they walked into the general store and were greeted by a man that reminded her so much of her father, tears instantly sprang to her eyes. He was about the same age as Daddy and had grey hair and a beard and a gently rounded belly and he even wore suspenders and oh this was just not good. The tears flowed freely as she held out her hand to the man. If it was any other day and in any other universe, Beth might have been surprised by the stranger pulling her into his arms but today, she wasn't. She was just grateful. "Oh, there now. Don't you cry. It's gonna be okay." His voice was soothing and though it didn't sound anything like her father's, there was something comforting in his embrace and she felt safe as she let the tears flow freely.

Daryl met the older man's gaze over her the crown of her head and he knew he didn't have to tell him that the worst had happened. The marauders had found his girl. "Don't know how many of 'em there were, but there's two less now."

The man nodded and Beth slipped from his arms and back to Daryl's side. "I'm sorry. You just look so much like my dad and today hasn't been the greatest day." She smiled sheepishly. A woman came from the back of the store, hobbling in on a cane and though she didn't look anything like her mama, this woman's hair a deep mahogany and swept up into a bun, and her eyes a dark brown, wide and bright, she was instantly drawn to the woman's simple beauty. She was struck at how much younger she was than her spouse and then scolded herself. Look at her mama and daddy. There was at least twenty years difference between the two of them. Look at her and Daryl too, she reminded herself. She didn't know why she had not considered that before. She didn't know exactly how old he was but he was clearly much older than she and somehow it comforted her that it was so.

"Hello dear. I'm Irma." The woman didn't hesitate to pull her into her warm embrace and Beth found herself with tears in her eyes again. "Why don't you come with me and we'll get you cleaned up and settled?" She was overcome with the feeling that somehow as God had taken her parents from her on that fateful morning when the rapid had whisked her downstream to a different life, a different path, he had placed two people on her path that strongly resembled her parents, if not in appearance then in spirit.

She glanced to Daryl and he nodded his assent to the suggestion. "You go on, me and Mr. Horvath can go over the details of all of this." He kept his voice low. He was struck for a moment that he didn't know these people and yet he trusted them. They must be cut from the same crust of earth as Beth Greene as that was the only explanation for him letting down his guard, especially after today with such a stark reminder of how cruel the world could really be.

The elder woman released Beth from her embrace and Beth stepped in front of Daryl, a little hesitant and Daryl felt the older couple's eyes on them and the reality of the situation was that they were supposed to be married now. Whether or not they did anything else, they had to at least act like it in public. He hesitated for a moment before dipping his head to hers and brushing his lips over hers quickly. "I'll see you in a bit."

Beth sighed as she stepped away from Daryl and the older woman led her away through the back of the store and through a doorway that led to a narrow staircase. Beth was surprised to find the upper floor of the place was decorated beautifully, like a fine hotel instead of a simple structure in the middle of nowhere serving as the town's only boarding house. The walls were covered in a deep burgundy and trimmed in dark walnut baseboards. The floors were shiny wood and decorated with long rugs in rich tones of burgundy and navy and gold that ran the length of the hall, like the finest she had seen in many of the plantation homes across the south.

"I had Chester run a bath. He's the town preacher's son. He's a little weak minded but a sweet boy and since his mama died of consumption last year, he's been needing someone to mother him." She turned and smiled sweetly at Beth as she turned the knob to the room at the far left end of the hall. "Me and the mister never got to have any children of our own so we've just adopted a few here and there along the way."

Beth smiled back at her. She exuded a warmth that Beth desperately needed right now. While she loved Daryl, there was something about another woman being here for her right now, when she was so vulnerable. "Thank you for this. Daryl and I are so grateful to you for lettin' us stay."

"It's nothing dear. You'll be doing us a favor." The woman coughed harshly into her hand as she gestured for Beth to enter the room. "I haven't been well and Mr. Horvath could use the help around here. Besides it gets lonely out here. I haven't had the company of another woman in some time. Not since Pastor John's wife, Mary, died. God, rest her soul."

Beth smiled at her and walked into the room, taking in the simple but elegant four poster bed with a blue and yellow gingham print quilt stretched taut across the bed, pillows tossed here and there. The floors were hardwood just like the hallway and in this room, there was a fireplace centered in a small sitting area with two and she was overcome by an almost overwhelming feeling of nostalgia because it reminded her so much of her parent's room back on the plantation.

"This is very nice." Beth remarked.

Irma looked at her for a moment and stepped past her into an adjoining room that served as a bathing room for in the center of it was a very large clawfoot bathtub, big enough for two and though it was only half filled now she realized it must have taken many trips for the boy to get the water heated and upstairs and she felt guilty. "I hope this is not a terrible imposition." Beth felt inclined to use her manners even though the only thing she wanted right now was to strip herself naked and scrub her skin until it was raw.

The elder woman seemed to realize this and gestured back to the bedroom. There is a drawer full of things you and your husband can wear. Our last guests left all their things here as there was not room for all their belongings in their wagon. She patted her arm and Beth met her warm gaze. "I know you might not want to talk about things right now but I've got a good ear for listening I'm told. Rest well dear."

Beth listened to the tap-tap of her cane and the click of the door closing and she slumped against the door facing for a moment. She stepped into the bathroom and began stripping herself of her clothing, trying not to think about how much blood she had on her, now dried and how the crimson had dried to almost a dark brown. She could still smell it she slipped her body into the water and bit back a sob as she began scrubbing her body with the bar of soap and fought the urge to scrape her skin with her nails wanting to remove every single fiber of this horrible day from her skin. She wished for the same treatment for her mind where the images flitted back and forth on repeat until she thought she would go mad. She didn't know how long she scrubbed at her skin, but it had to be a long time as her skin was bright red. She wasn't going to wash her hair until she saw the telltale flash of red. She dipped her head below the water and lathered up some soap and began to work it into her hair, scrubbing every last strand just as she did her body.

She didn't think, she just acted, much as she had back in the forest, just doing what she had to do to survive. Finally she dried off and hunted down something to sleep in because that was the only thing she wanted to do. She selected a nightgown and had just tugged it over her head when she heard the knock. She let the garment drop into place and walked towards the bed. "Come in."

Daryl eased the door open and he was so glad to see that she was not broke down and crying in the bed. He hadn't really thought she would be. Something told him that side of Beth Greene had been buried with the ghost of what her family thought she was.

"Thought you'd be asleep by now." He said as he approached the bed, unsure of how to broach the subject of sleeping arrangements.

"Just finished a bath. I don't know if I could have slept without you here anyway." She admitted. It was true. She realized that she lingered in her bath for that as much as she did for wanting to scrub the day from her body and forget it ever happened.

Something about the way she said it stirred something in him and he knew pretty soon that stirred up feeling was going to demand that it be dealt with but he didn't think that day was today. But Beth needing him was about the best thing he had ever heard, though he could do without the reason why she felt that way. He hated those men and wished he could go back and kill them all over again but Beth had effectively taken care of that.

His eyes slid from hers to the bed. Beth spoke what was on both their minds. "We may as well share a bed. It would be hard to explain if someone walked in and we were sleeping apart. We _are_ pretending to be married. Yet we need them to trust us."

He knew he loved her for a reason. _Loved her_? The thought popped into his head before he could stop it. Was that what this was? He shook his head and focused on what she had said. "Yes we do need their trust. And I hope you know you can trust me Beth." He meant it. He would never touch her, not without her asking.

"So that settles it." She nodded at him and pulled the covers back, feeling the tired all the way to her bones and she couldn't keep her eyes open as her head hit the pillow and he climbed in after her.

"Night Daryl. Love you." She knew something was vaguely unfamiliar yet familiar at the moment she let those words slip past her lips but she wouldn't be able to place it until tomorrow that they had never said those words out loud. Right now all she wanted was sleep and he thought she might have imagined Daryl leaning over and pressing his lips to her cheek. And she definitely imagined him saying "I love ya too." Because they'd never said it before and that was something she wanted to remember.

Despite the events of the day and the down to her marrow exhaustion, she felt her lips curve up in a smile as she whispered "I know" and slipped off into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxoxo


	11. Making a new Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

Beth opened her eyes and she fought back tears, an instant replay of the day before running through her mind before she'd even gotten out of bed. She knew the moment her mind drifted back into consciousness, before she even had to mentally pry her eyes open, that she was alone and Daryl had gotten up way before her. She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands and took a deep breath.

" _Love you Daryl_." Had she only dreamed that part of yesterday? Funny thing was she blessedly didn't remember any of her dreams. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. When she'd laid her head down she had briefly sent a prayer up for a dreamless sleep, just hoping to stave off the nightmarish day from replaying in her mind while her body was trying to recover. She thought maybe she got her wish only, well that would be bad, because it would mean that she said those words to him out loud. And maybe he was nervous about it. She frowned and closed her eyes a moment, letting her mind drift to the minute she'd climbed into bed and she remembered clearly, the look on Daryl's face as he'd told her she could trust him. Good lord she didn't know why that man kept reiterating that.

She trusted him more than she had ever trusted another human being. She probably trusted him more than she trusted her own family at this point. After all, they'd practically left her for dead to survive on her own. And survive she had!

She thought of Daryl's words to her. " _Brave girl."_ Like he was proud of her. She knew what he meant. He wasn't proud of her for killing those men. He was proud of her for defending herself. For exercising her God-given right. He didn't leave her either. Time after time, he kept coming back for her. He had ever since he'd picked her up from that river bank. He'd saved her life that day but she thought in a way, he'd changed it too.

She wondered where Daryl was now. She thought back over their conversation before bed. She wondered for a moment if her confession in a weak moment would have made him bolt and she really didn't think so. She didn't think it made him uncomfortable either. He probably just went to see about breakfast. She could swear she smelled the thick enticing aroma of coffee and she sincerely hoped her stomach could handle it because it smelled delicious. Maybe he would bring her some. He was always doing thoughtful things like that for her. Making sure she was okay.

The rest of last night's dreamy memory hit her like a ton of bricks. _"Love ya too, Beth."_ His whispered words falling on her closing eyelids, his breath warm on her face as his lips pressed to her cheek, warm and wet. Something akin to a jolt went through her at the realization that he had admitted his feelings for her and she'd missed it. Well, only sorta missed it, she smiled to herself softly, scooting to the edge of the bed. Daryl loved her.

He _loved_ her. Despite the soreness in her body and the heaviness in her eyes from all the tears she'd cried the day before, she felt lighter than she had in months. Daryl Dixon loved her and she loved him and now they didn't even have to really pretend to be married. She blushed, thinking what else that might mean. What came with being married and what she and Daryl could just let happen. They could take care of the rest later. The thought had her heart flying up into her throat and then once that calmed down, her thoughts began wandering to where his hands might roam the next time he took her in his arms and kissed her. She took a deep breath and placed a hand to her middle more in an attempt to calm her nerves than anything else as she eased herself from the bed and began to dress. It wasn't going to get her anywhere thinking about her and Daryl doing things that a husband and wife got up to behind closed doors. Especially since she didn't even know where he was.

Like an answer to her unspoken question, the door opened just as she was lacing up her boots and Daryl walked through carrying two mugs of steaming hot coffee in each hand. She beamed up at him while she stood, her hands coming to flatten out the wrinkles in her only remaining skirt (the only one not drenched in blood).

Daryl didn't know quite what to think about the bright and sunshiny smile Beth had on her face. It knocked him on his ass like it usually did but what struck him the most was that he really had kind of figured she'd be quiet today like she was last night or God forbid, revert back to that wild creature he'd found crouched in a pool of blood and flanked by the dead bodies of the two men that attacked her.

Now here she was standing before him like some damn goddess and even if her hair was still wild from sleep and yesterday's events and her eyes looked a little tired, when she smiled like that he thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"Mornin'" he smiled back because when a girl like her went through what she did and still woke up the next day with a grin on her face and hope in her eyes, well you smiled dammit. He found himself doing that more and more with her lately, smiling for no reason and he wondered what his brother would think of that.

" _You always were the sweet one baby brother."_

He was sweet all right. He was sweet on Beth Greene and he'd told her that the night before although he knew she didn't remember. He set his coffee mug downs on the dresser beside his bow and turned back to Beth and if his hands shook a bit as he handed it to her, well it couldn't have had anything to do with the fact that this was the first conversation they were having since she told him what she did last night. He wondered if she heard him and he searched her eyes for the clue that would lead him to the truth.

"Morning." She smiled shyly at him and took the mug from him, her eyes boring into him. "Thank you."

She brought the mug to her lips and sipped gingerly, the liquid a little warm but not scorching. She couldn't help the tiny moan that bubbled up as the ache in her throat was soothed by the coffee sliding down her throat. She regarded him after taking the cup down from her mouth and he seemed to be studying her for some reason and she flushed a bit. "What?" She brought her free hand up to brush her hair behind her ear and she could feel the wild bird's nest there. It had dried while it was wet and she knew the result of doing that from experience. "Oh gracious, my hair must look awful." She set her mug down quickly beside his and her hands flew to her hair, combing through it with her fingers, trying in vain to make it behave.

She felt strong hands on her wrists and it made a strangled gasp come out and her eyes flew to the mirror to catch Daryl's gaze with her own. "'S fine." Then something else.

" _Let me"_ his eyes seemed to say.

Beth thought she knew in that moment why she didn't dream last night. For some reason, her subconscious had saved moments like this for the real thing. For Daryl took the brush off the dresser and she nodded at the unspoken question behind his look. He set to work on the tangles, gentle. Silent. Beth watched him as he worked his brow furrowed, hair falling down in his eyes and she could almost not see the expression in his eyes as his hair tended to obscure them. But of what she could almost see nearly took her breath away. His movements were gentle, reverent almost like he was handling bone-fine china.

" _Almost_ reminds me of when my mama used to brush my hair." Beth looked at him and he gave this little hiccup laugh.

"Bet she did a better job." He murmured.

Beth giggled. "No. When I said almost I meant that she used to pull something awful when she was working the tangles. This actually feels," She flushed, trying to choose her words carefully. "This feels nice. It doesn't hurt." She directed her smile at him in the mirror where he regarded her for a moment.

"I'd never hurt ya Beth." His eyes were serious and the weight behind his words hinted at everything in his heart and whether he was finished brushing her hair or not didn't matter. Beth pulled away and spun around, her back pressed against the dresser, gazing up at him while he stood there, unsure of the change in positions and he was looking down at her, his face inches from hers and he was breathing heavy; she could hear it and feel it.

Her hands snaked up between them, her fingers splayed on his chest, so warm, so masculine. "I know Daryl. I know. I heard you last night before I fell asleep." She let the words sink in for a moment and a spark of something that looked like fear flashed in her eyes. She rushed to finish. "And I meant what I said, so I guess what I'm asking is do you want to take those words back?" She challenged him quietly, barely breathing while she waited on his answer, but she knew it before it left his lips. Because all the love she felt was reflected back in his eyes, those deep blue pools that heated her up inside and made her feel like she was in the safest haven in the whole world, his gaze the safety net that extended beyond his arms, reaching into her and pulling out something in her she didn't even know existed.

He didn't even know how he could have ever doubted her feelings for him. How he could have doubted himself because locked in her arms like this, he felt things he'd never felt with anyone before. Where before his arms had hung limply at his sides while she got out what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. Now they came up to rest on her hips, the fabric of her skirts catching on the rough calluses of his workworn hands.

It might have taken him a lifetime to say those three words to another person, words he'd never thought would be meant for him, he was gonna say them again now. So she knew and would never doubt that he'd never take back what he'd said. " _Never_. I love ya Beth." He dipped his head to hers and they both got lost in the soft sweet, teasing, nipping nature of their kisses, just soft presses of his lips to hers, fusing together, the taste of their confession still sweet on their tongues.

Their kiss had to be broken finally as they were both panting and breathless by the time she finally pulled her swollen lips from his. She smiled sweetly at him just before the intensity of his gaze forced her to dip her head down, her face flushed with the heat behind his eyes and her skin still feeling like it was on fire. _Good lord, but did he know how to kiss!_

As she stepped out of his embrace and he went back to brushing her hair, it was like they really were married and she thought that maybe they could make it work here. They could live here. They could live here the rest of their lives. At least she wished they could. But neither she nor Daryl were that type. They couldn't leave family and she knew he was going to see his brother as much as she was going to find her family and where those two missions met in the middle she didn't know. For now she just reveled in the feel of the soft ministrations of his fingers as he worked the brush through her hair until it shone back in the mirror flowing about her shoulders in waves. She sighed as he finished admiring the results.

"Maybe Irma will lend me some hairpins until I can get some of my own. We lost so much with the carriage." She said softly.

"But we didn't lose each other." His quiet reminder from beside her pulled on something deep within her. Her heart fluttered something awful and she thought in that moment that she never knew. She never knew how falling in love could make you feel like you really were falling. She felt like she'd climbed up the highest peak and in an invincible moment tipped her body off the ledge in a free fall, tumbling and instead of meeting certain death, she was met with the arms of Daryl Dixon, again and again. And the thing was it was worth that climb to the top. She'd gladly do it all over again and she realized with a start that she meant it, even if it meant parting with her family. She didn't know if she was supposed to feel bad for thinking that (she might a tiny bit) but she felt oddly calm. Because she knew that whatever plan that had been set in place for her and the rest of her family when they'd started on their trip west, it must have been some sort of manifest destiny that had drawn her and Daryl together.

That's all love is, a chance. A chance meeting on a riverside when she'd defied death and he'd defied his own genetic nature and somewhere in the middle, they'd beat all the odds in falling for each other.

As they walked downstairs together to start their new lives in this strange new town, she thought maybe even if they couldn't stay here forever they could make the best of it for now. Beth thought of how she had awoken of wanting to look forward and forget the past and she knew that this man was part of that vision. They were going forward. Together they were forging ahead, making a new path, leaving a trail of memories in their wake even if it had to be baby steps to take them there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that ends part 1 Of my planned 3 part series for this Bethyl Western AU "Trail of Memories". Please let me know what you think of this story and your hopes for the sequel. Until next time, xoxoxo

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the first part of an intended 3 part series.


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